


The Irish Colonel by Eugene H. Craig

by bookscape



Category: Zorro (TV 1957)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2020-07-10 06:33:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 29
Words: 94,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19901362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookscape/pseuds/bookscape
Summary: A retired Irish fighter of the Spanish Army comes to Los Angeles to see his old friend, Monastario.  But people have a way of changing .... and even Paddy, himself holds a mystery that Diego de la Vega feels he must solve.I am thrilled to be able to include Eugene's works among the other stories that are here.  He is a wonderful writer, with great wit, imagination and an eye for historical detail.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A retired Irish fighter of the Spanish Army comes to Los Angeles to see his old friend, Monastario. But people have a way of changing .... and even Paddy, himself holds a mystery that Diego de la Vega feels he must solve.
> 
> I am thrilled to be able to include Eugene's works among the other stories that are here. He is a wonderful writer, with great wit, imagination and an eye for historical detail.

_**The Irish Colonel**_

**By Eugene H. Craig**  
  
---  
  
**A retired Irish fighter of the Spanish Army comes to Los Angeles to see his old friend, Monastario. But people have a way of changing .... and even Paddy, himself holds a mystery that Diego de la Vega feels he must solve.**

**I am thrilled to be able to include Eugene's works among the other stories that are here. He is a wonderful writer, with great wit, imagination and an eye for historical detail.**  
  
---  
  
---  
  
**Day One**

**Chapter 1 – The Arrival**

**The dusty brown coach from San Pedro rolled its way along the bumpy dirt road towards the pueblo of Los Angeles. Inside, three weary passengers half-listened to the non-stop stories of an ex-soldier. Two male travelers, residents of the pueblo, kept their eyes closed in the warmth of the day. The third, a plump, middle-aged merchant’s wife in a black dress and shawl, sighed now and again at the stories and only wished for a quicker end to the journey. _Dear God_ , she prayed, _give me a little more strength to endure this braggart's stories of war and death_. Only the fourth passenger, a small, slender boy of some nine years of age, seemed endlessly fascinated by the stories.**

**A man wearing a lightweight black cape over a green military tunic, concealing its epaulets but not its medals, held the young man spellbound.**

**"Now it was his uncle, the great Espoz y Mina, who outfoxed the French time and time again. And what a man he was," the green-eyed traveler enthused.**

**The boy interrupted. "But, Señor. What happened to Xavier Mina?"**

**"Good question, the lad’s paying attention" the man commented. "It was seven hundredmen of the partisan band against eight thousand of the French devils, Dufour and Suchet, in Navarre. The lads had to scatter to save themselves. At first, Mina escaped, but it was only a few days later that the French nabbed him in Labiano, captured him, my lad. Such a young fellow he was, too. The French wanted to execute him as an example to Spanish youth not to resist them. And what a savage execution Suchet had planned. But the other French general, Berthier, decided to send Mina to prison in France instead of making him a martyr. The French thought that his capture would put an end to the resistance to their occupation, but they had really done the Spaniards a favor."**

**"But how could sending him to prison be a favor?"**

**"Ah, little did they know that his uncle, the great Espoz y Mina, who took over the command of the resistance, would prove to be a greater adversary. He became the most terrible partisan leader of all. There was not a Frenchman alive who did not cringe at his name." The man paused a moment as if savoring a personal memory. "Now, I remember when we laid an ambush…"**

**The woman sitting opposite him turned to the boy. "Now, that’s enough questions for this gentleman," she said. "Look, there, out the window. You can see the pueblo in the distance."**

**The boy put his hands on the window and gazed out at the dry landscape and the view of the fields of oak trees that obscured the pueblo of Los Angeles. "Will we be there soon, Mother?"**

**"Another half an hour at best," she replied and ruffled his hair. She then looked across at the man in the dark green hat with a white band around it. "I’m sorry, Señor. My son has a very active imagination and may have bad dreams from what you told him about the French."**

**The boy began to protest. "I won’t have any bad dreams, Mother."**

**The man in the cape sighed. "My apologies, Señora. I do believe that this lad is old enough not to have bad dreams. But if it will make you feel any better, I won’t mention any more stories about their hangings, decapitations, executions, and burnings."**

**"Señor! Please!"**

**"My apologies, once again," he said, now in a contrite tone. "I’ll change the subject matter." He retreated into silence. But it was only for a moment. He brightened up at a new thought. "Say, now, did you ever hear about the English pirates along the coasts of New Spain? What devils they were…"**

**The boy smiled. His mother rolled her eyes.**

**************************************************************************

**The driver pulled his team of mules up opposite the gates of the cuartel of the pueblo of Los Angeles. The coach passengers became animated, straightening their clothing and taking one last look at their traveling companions. Only the man in the cape seemed unmoved by their arrival. He remained composed and calmly watched the activities of his traveling companions.**

**The merchant’s wife pulled her shawl around her, then pulled out a cloth bag from in between her son and herself. She pulled his small hat from behind his back and clapped it on his head and dusted off his shoulders.**

**The boy stretched his own short legs a little, looking at his small black boots, and noticed the boots of the man opposite him. The man was looking out of the window, but the small boy caught his eye. "Señor, are you an officer or a soldier?"**

**The man smiled. "One in the same." When the boy looked confused, he added patiently, "I’m an officer and a soldier."**

**The boy smiled in return. "Your uniform is a different color from the soldiers in the cuartel."**

**"You are quite observant, my lad. That’s because it’s of the Irish Regiment of the Spanish Army. We’re the fiercest fighters of the King."**

**"Oh," the boy seemed impressed. "My name is Pedro Cárdenas. My father owns a store. My mother…."**

**"That’s enough, Pedro," said Señora Cárdenas. "Your pardon, Señor, but we must be going."**

**"God speed, Señora, Master Pedro. Colonel O’Leary at your service."**

**The boy smiled a farewell over his shoulder and took his mother’s hand. Outside the coach he whispered, "Did you see the color of his hair?"**

**"The color of the devil," she replied.**

**The colonel was the last to leave the coach. He got out on the opposite side of the coach, which faced the plaza, and stretched his arms and legs, emitting a loud groan as he stretched. His sharp eyes took in the bustling life of the plaza with strolling Indians, the central well and shade trees. Men and women walked leisurely and the people seemed well dressed. Even the straw-hatted peons with their grain-filled carts seemed content as they chatted with each other. A few stalls were scattered around the plaza with the merchants offering homemade pottery or foodstuffs to the passersby.**

**The colonel continued his survey of the buildings. Opposite the cuartel were merchants’ stores, the livery stable, and, he quickly spotted it, the inn and tavern. Suddenly, the sun seemed rather oppressive and O’Leary opted to get to a shadier spot – the tavern. As he moved off, he heard a loud voice calling for identification papers. He turned back toward the sound, irritated at the interruption.**

**Sergeant Demetrio García López, senior soldier at the cuartel, was calling for the passengers to turn over their identity papers for inspection and to prepare for a luggage check. "All passengers present papers," he proclaimed.**

**O’Leary rounded the end of the coach and beheld the figure of the sergeant. Before him stood a huge, portly man, with the largest stomach O’Leary had ever seen. Towering over all the passengers, he would have made an intimidating figure except for one thing: his eyes. The sergeant’s eyes were friendly, a man who could be reasoned with, maybe even a man with a sense of humor.**

**The sergeant read out all the names on the list of passengers that he got from the driver, identifying each name with the individual in the small group. The very last name he came to was Patricio Diego O’Leary.**

**The man in the cape sighed and said in a corrective tone, but in Irish Gaelic – " _Padraig Seamus O’Laeghaire_."**

**"I beg your pardon, Señor?" Garcia asked, perking up at the strange name. "What kind of a name is that?"**

**The man in the cape looked a little indignant and replied with a raised eyebrow, "That’s Colonel Patrick James O’Leary to you, soldier."**

**"A colonel? Oh, yes, of course, Señor!" Garcia was quick to salute the man. The sergeant paused a moment and thought. "Your pardon, Señor, isn’t that an Irish name?"**

**"The name isn’t French, Sergeant," O’Leary replied impatiently. "Now, can we get this nonsense over with? I’m in need of a bit of refreshment."**

**Sergeant García was immediately sympathetic to that remark. He took a closer look at the new comer - the thick red hair and moustache, the intense green eyes, and the green uniform jacket of the man - O’Leary was impressive to look at for these reasons alone. García was quick to notice that the man was built much like his slender commanding officer, although not quite as tall and a little more robust. The colonel’s fingers beat an impatient tattoo on his leg.**

**"I must ask all the passengers to prepare to open their luggage for inspection," announced García. "The comandante will be with you shortly to inspect your papers." With that, he executed an about-face and headed back into the cuartel.**

**O’Leary sighed and returned his gaze to the plaza and beyond it, the surrounding blue mountains. _You really are at the ends of the Earth, Padraig, me lad_ , he told himself. _Christ Jesus, am I thirsty, and not a drop of the barley for hours_.**

**The stout sergeant entered the office of the comandante of the cuartel of Los Angeles. At the desk sat a young dark-haired officer with intense blue eyes and a dark moustache and goatee. García saluted the officer. "Here is the list of the passengers on the coach that just now arrived, mi capitán," he said.**

**The officer, Capitán Enrique Monastario Sánchez, read over the list of names. When he got to the last name, he read it out loud, "Patricio Diego O’Leary."**

**"Sí, Capitán, it is an Irish name," said García.**

**"I know that," responded Monastario curtly.**

**"Oh, Capitán, Señor O’Leary is also a colonel. He is wearing his uniform under his cape. It is green, like his hat."**

**The captain looked up sharply. "Oh, really? How interesting." The slim officer got up from the desk. "Have your soldiers inspect the luggage and bring the passengers here to complete the forms." On second thought, he added, "Wait a moment. I’ll come out myself." He fastened his sword to his belt.**

**Capitán Monastario put on his friendliest smile when reaching the small but wary crowd. "I am sorry for the delay, Señores, and Señora. Will you please accompany me to the office? I will need you to fill out a travel declaration. It will only take a short while."**

**The officer paused, as his eyes flicked over the list, matching the names to the number of bodies present. "And where is Colonel O’Leary?"**

**García went around the backside of the coach to check for the man. "I do not see him, Comandante."**

**"Well, find him, Sergeant! No one is authorized to leave until everyone is accounted for and fills out the proper forms!" the officer barked. "Well, baboso, what are you standing there for?"**

**"At once, Comandante!" García responded, gesturing to a soldier at the entrance of the cuartel. It took almost a quarter of an hour to ascertain that O’Leary was nowhere to be seen or found in the plaza.**

**Monastario stood studying the passenger list and becoming more irritated by the minute until García returned.**

**"He is nowhere to be found, Capitán. We looked around all the stalls and he is neither in the plaza nor in the streets nearby."**

**Monastario looked very displeased. "Well, he must be found. How could you let this happen? Did you not tell all the passengers that they had to wait and be cleared?"**

**García sighed. "Yes, mi Capitán. I told everyone, including Colonel O’Leary." The large man paused and smiled. "But, Capitán, he did say he was very thirsty. Perhaps he went to the tavern."**

**Monastario rolled his eyes. "You would think of that." He was well on his way toward berating the sergeant further when a thought came to him. "Wait. I will check on this myself." He turned to one of the sentries. "Private Cosio, will you please escort these people to my office and ask them to make themselves comfortable. And stay there yourself until my return."**

**The soldier saluted and corralled the unhappy passengers into the cuartel. Only the boy seemed glad to have a look inside the massive masonry walls and to watch the soldiers within. He even waved to the big sergeant as they were moved inside.**

**García caught the gesture, smiled and waved with his fingers. "A nice little boy," he commented. "It reminds me of when I was a little boy."**

**Monastario thought to himself, _when were you ever ‘little,’ estupido?_ But he held his peace. Children did not interest him, only the matters at hand. Nevertheless, he looked irritated. "Sergeant, come with me. This O’Leary needs to be informed of the strict measures that must be adhered to. The informality he may be used to in Spain is inappropriate here in Los Angeles."**

**García nodded and followed the captain towards the inn. He hoped that the Irishman would not cause too much trouble. But, on the one hand, he was a higher rank than the capitán. But, on the other hand, he was not in charge of anything. García sighed again. _Vamos a ver_.**  
  
---


	2. The Irish Colonel

The Irish Colonel

_**The Irish Colonel**_

_**by**_

_**Eugene Craig**_  
  
---  
  
**DAY ONE**

**Chapter 4**

**The room wasn’t too bad, but on the other hand, it was not the best he had stayed in. But he didn’t have much to bring with him.** ****

**Patrick O’Leary went through the few items in his chest. It was an iron strapped wooden box that carried odds and ins: A few changes of uniform, drawers, a nightshirt, an extra pair of boots, some decorations for special occasions, a razor, some musk oil for other special occasions, a comb, a brush and a pick for his teeth. There were a few books, daggers and, carefully wrapped, some locks of hair from fond memories. And a few war souvenirs. In a leather pouch were official papers on parchment and some personal letters. Wrapped in a scrap of leather was another memento, something he had not looked at in a long time, but which was forever in his subconscious. For now, the man ignored it and decided that a change of shirt would do in the warm weather. _Maybe I should have gone to the north, to Monterey or San Francisco_ , he thought. _It’s probably cooler there. Now, after a wash, we’re all set for some dinner and perhaps there would be some evening entertainment as well_.**

**It was later that evening when he sat at a table near the great fireplace, that O’Leary contemplated his surroundings. He had a good feeling about the inn. The barmaids were pretty and friendly. They seemed quite taken by his astonishing red hair and breezy friendliness. And he never failed to give them a good tip. Whenever all the bills got paid, though, they seemed to be a little short at the final counting at the end of the night.**

**O’Leary had just put in an order for dinner when he saw Capitán Monastario enter the inn. He called a barmaid over. "See that officer over there, darlin’? Why don’t you tell him that he’s invited to share the table of a grand gentleman." The girl looked doubtful, but took his coin. He saw her approach the officer who had just hung up his hat. The man inclined his head as he listened to her message.**

**Enrique Monastario looked up to see the Irish colonel raise his mug to him and nod him over. Monastario was not used to being invited to anyone’s table for dinner and his initial reaction was wary. However, he decided to accept in order to learn more about the colonel whom he only vaguely remembered. Many Irishmen had served in the regiments and not a few had the fiery red hair of O’Leary. Besides, it had been much too long since he had the chance to talk to anyone about the war and the battles that had been so much a part of his life before coming to the Américas. And the colonel’s status, even a retired colonel, was certainly acceptable for social interaction.**

**"Ah, Capitán, how fortunate it is, that you have a little time for dinner this evening," said O’Leary, standing up as Monastario arrived at his table.**

**Monastario bowed politely. "It is an honor, Colonel. Thank you for your invitation."**

**"What will you have, my lad?" he asked, sitting down, as the barmaid stood waiting to take the order. "Oh, don’t pay me no mind," he added seeing an odd expression on Monastario’s face that he took for unease. "I won’t stand on rank if you won’t. We’re just two veterans enjoying the evening." As Monastario sat down, O’Leary leaned over and said to him in a confidential tone. "Listen to me, Monastario. We share something that these civilians never can. We are the elite of Spain, the fighters, and the heroes, with a record that these people can never appreciate. That makes us special." He poured his guest a mug of wine from the bottle that sat there. "So, you see why there’s the chains of history that draw us together, one for the other, for better or for worse."**

**Monastario looked up at the girl. "The usual." He watched her leave and turned back to the Irishman. "I agree with your sentiments, Colonel O’Leary. These people will always be ingrates."**

**O’Leary contemplated the officer’s comment a moment. There was so much said in so few words. He wondered why the captain was so distant and angry. Here was a man isolated from the community he served. _Not the same fellow I once knew_. The captain would bear some watching and perhaps some investigation as well.**

**The evening passed with talk of the campaigns and the colonel moderated his wine in-take, noting that the captain was very reserved in his. Monastario seemed to relax and enjoy himself. They talked about some of the commanders they knew in common and the battles. The captain's opinions were measured, though, as if not fully trusting the colonel’s appraisals that were, in actuality, fairly close to his own.**

**O’Leary grew a little tired of the slow pace of the evening and ordered another bottle of wine that he ended up drinking mostly himself. "You know, Enrique," he said familiarly, at last, and with a slight slur in his voice, "there is but one thing that has always stuck in my craw. There is nothing worse in all the ranks of war, than a dastardly traitor."**

**The sudden statement took Monastario aback. "What do you mean?" he asked stiffly.**

**"Oh, not you, lad. No, no, don’t misunderstand me," the colonel said, laying a hand on the other’s forearm. "I mean, the traitor that comes from within our ranks; the one, who at the height of battle becomes a turncoat, an opportunist, a traitor, to his brothers in battle." He tossed down a glass and poured himself another. "Bloody bastard, spawn of the devil. A great enemy of Spain and to all the men of the regiment."**

**Monastario looked interested. "I don’t believe I remember the incident, Colonel," he remarked raising his mug and contemplating the contents before sipping some more.**

**"He fled here after the war," O’Leary continued and began to brood. "I traced him to the Vice-Royalty of Peru, but he seems to have vanished."**

**"An Englishman, perhaps? I remember a few who served with Wellington who joined us at…."**

**"No, my friend. Not a bloody Englishman at all. And not a bloody Frenchman either. Just a traitorous Spaniard."**

**"There were plenty of those," Monastario’s voice suddenly became bitter and he stared out into space with some intensity. O’Leary regarded the captain with some apprehension and then some appreciation.**

**"I understand, my lad. But it was worse than that - for me, that is. A bloody Spaniard who was Irish."**

**Monastario was silent and looked into the green eyes of the Irishman. _For once_ , he thought, _I know a man who can understand the intensity of my hatred, and, in particular, to Spaniards close to home, much too close to home_. But instead of probing further, he commented, "I know of no such person in Los Angeles, Colonel. And New Spain, indeed the Américas, is a sea where many men have lost their old identities and assumed new ones."**

**"I didn’t suppose that you would know this one, for you could never tell by his looks, his name nor his accent that he was anything other than Spanish," O’Leary said. "But, let’s drop this subject matter. It’s making me melancholy and the worse thing is for melancholy to come between me and a bottle of the good stuff. Let’s order another round."**

**The colonel looked about him. The inn had filled up rather quickly and the barmaids were busy waiting on tables. "The devil take it. I’ll be dry by the time they get to the table. I’ll get a bottle myself." With that he lurched to his feet and made his way to the bar.**

**Enrique Monastario watched him go. He was actually enjoying the evening. The colonel represented some fond memories for him when he was in the whirlwind of battle and glory. Life was simpler in those days. As for now, he was, on the one hand, updating his file on the colonel in his well-ordered mind and, finding a much-needed social outlet on the other. The colonel was right about one thing, though. Regardless of their present circumstances, they were men linked by their past – for better or for worse.**

**  
**  
  
---  
  
**[Chapter Five](http://bookscape.net/authors/colonel5.htm)**  
---  
**[Chapter One](http://bookscape.net/authors/colonel1.htm)**  
**[Zorro Contents](http://bookscape.net/zorrocontents.htm)**  
**[Main Page](http://bookscape.net/index.htm)**


	3. The Irish Colonel

The Irish Colonel

_**The Irish Colonel**_

_**by**_

_**Eugene Craig**_  
  
---  
  
**DAY ONE**

**Chapter 3**

**"A thirsty day it is," O’Leary remarked as they crossed the plaza toward the cuartel. "Nice village, Capitán. A quiet command?"**

**"I do not wish to disabuse you of this illusion so soon, Colonel," said Monastario seriously, "but this is a frontier post with crime and lawlessness. My command operates no differently than one at war."**

**"I see," responded the colonel. "Then I will count on you to give me a proper debriefing."**

**"I believe you are retired, are you not?" commented Monastario.**

**"What’s the major crime in these parts?" O’Leary redirected the conversation, not caring for what he took as a dismissive attitude toward his rank.**

**"I’ll fill you in at your ‘debriefing," Monastario responded, but he smiled.**

**"Fair enough. Let’s get the bureaucratic lunacy tended to," O’Leary yawned.**

**Monastario was annoyed by the remark, but by now they had reached the cuartel and he set his mind to the business at hand. The arrivals were impatiently awaiting his return.**

**The passengers fidgeted as Monastario checked the forms they had filled out, and dismissed them one by one.**

**O’Leary lingered over each and every detail of the form, muttering to himself and finally finished with a flourish of his quill. He took pains, however, to nod to each passenger as they left and winked at the merchant’s wife who tossed her head and grabbed her son’s hand. The boy smiled shyly as they left.**

**When he finished, he got up and stalked around the room, looking at the paintings and maps, plants and other furnishings while Monastario reviewed the form. "I see you are a mixture of austerity and good taste, Capitán," he noted looking out the window onto the cuartel.**

**Monastario took the compliments for granted and decided that, despite his presumptuous attitude, the colonel would not be too much of a problem - if handled the right way.**

**"I am impressed by your remarkable memory of events at Valencia, Señor," commented the capitán. "Those were the days of glory. It must have been difficult for you to decide to retire."**

**_You are fishing, me lad_ , thought the colonel. "Like I said, I don’t forget a name or an important occasion. Ah, Capitán, it’s not often that one can meet someone who lived through those times as a comrade. And here, at the ends of the Earth."**

**"Now that you are here, as you say, at the ‘ends of the Earth,’ do you intend to stay for long?"**

**"Now that remains to be seen, my dear Capitán. I’ve never been a man tied to one spot, but one can never tell."**

**"And what will you do here, if I may ask?" the comandante pressed.**

**O’Leary seemed to take offense at the question. "That’s a mighty personal question, Capitán."**

**"Please, do not take offense at my question. Why don’t you make a statement – for the record," responded Monastario smoothly.**

**"Let’s say that, for the present, I’ll be looking for a lady. I presume there are a few, even on the frontier?" smiled the Irishman.**

**"A few," responded Monastario. "And you may find that you will have to overlook their rude pedigree in favor of the wealth of their fathers."**

**"I trust you’ve made some progress in that area," commented O’Leary, now interested.**

**Monastario made a gesture of dismissal. "I hope you will forgive me, Colonel O’Leary, if I have some duties to perform. Perhaps we can continue our conversation at a later time? The tavern serves some excellent wines."**

**O’Leary nodded. "Any town with a good tavern won’t be boring for long."**

**Monastario smiled benevolently and saw the colonel to the door. He watched until the officer disappeared through the gates of the cuartel and began to think of how he might make use of such a man for his own ends.**  
  
---  
  
**[Chapter Four](http://bookscape.net/authors/colonel4.htm)**  
---  
**[Chapter One](http://bookscape.net/authors/colonel1.htm)**  
**[Zorro Contents](http://bookscape.net/zorrocontents.htm)**  
**[Main Page](http://bookscape.net/index.htm)**


	4. The Irish Colonel

The Irish Colonel

_**The Irish Colonel**_

_**by**_

_**Eugene Craig**_  
  
---  
  
****

**DAY ONE**

**Chapter 5**

**Don Diego de la Vega and his manservant, the mute Bernardo, headed toward the tavern. Life could be monotonous at times out at the De la Vega hacienda and there was much to do in town. Diego found the inn a congenial place where he could run into friends and make new acquaintances. But this was true of just about anyone else as well.** ****

**The tavern was the center of social activity and much intelligence could be gleaned just at a single sitting over a glass of wine and a chat with a local friend or even a stranger. It was important to keep abreast of all developments in town, especially under the iron rule of Capitán Monastario, where injustice could occur at a moment’s notice to anyone who fell afoul of the comandante.**

**Diego looked around for an empty seat as Bernardo headed toward the bar. He was quick to note the appearance of a newcomer. He saw a man with impossibly red hair in a green military jacket, white breeches and black boots make his way to the bar. He managed to bump into a large number of people on his way across the room. As the man reached the bar, he put a hand on Bernardo’s shoulder and made a comment with a smile.** ****

**Bernardo reacted with a smile of his own, pointed to his ears and mouth and shook his head. The officer did a double take as Diego headed over, then nodded in understanding.** ****

**"Your pardon, Señor. This is my manservant, Bernardo. He neither hears nor speaks."** ****

**"Colonel O’Leary at your service. War related disability?"**

**"No, he has been mute since childhood. Your pardon, Colonel O’Leary, my name is Diego de la Vega."**

**"The honor is all mine, Señor de la Vega. I can tell that you are a fine gentleman," said the officer as he gestured the barmaid over and looked Diego up and down.**

**"Because of my clothing, Señor?" asked Diego in an amused tone.**

**"Not at all," responded the colonel. "It’s because you bothered to come over and support the man who works for you. Mutual loyalty seems like a rare virtue in this day and age."**

**Diego was pleased by the answer. "It would seem that you, too, are a fine gentleman, to appreciate the fact that loyalty is a two-way road that both must travel upon."**

**"Without loyalty and a strong sense of comradeship, I would be dead, Señor. And so would all of us that served in the war," commented the colonel thoughtfully.**

**"That is so true," remarked Diego. "But there always seems to be some men who forget that – and too quickly, once peace has arrived."**

**"And some never believe that peace has arrived," O’Leary grunted. Then he gathered up two bottles from the countertop. "I would be very honored if you would join me at the table, young Don," he said . "The more, the merrier."**

**"Thank you, Colonel. I think I shall," responded Diego. He was curious to check out this new character in town. He followed the officer through the crowd and then saw Enrique Monastario watching the two of them from a table near the fireplace. To his surprise, O’Leary went right up to the table where the comandante was seated and put down the bottles. Diego immediately appreciated O’Leary’s last comment about war.**

**"Good evening, Capitán," said Diego politely as O’Leary offered him a seat at the table.**

**Monastario had risen politely and bowed. "De la Vega." There was no warmth in his voice.**

**"Seems like you two know each other already," observed the Irishman. "Good. Now we can get down to the business at hand." The other two men sat down.**

**"And what business would that be?" asked Monastario.**

**"Why, any business you choose," teased O’Leary. "Now ‘business’ can be serious or it can be for the light of heart. Now, the capitán and I have discussed some serious business up until now, but I see no further need to dwell on the past, that is, for the present. It would seem that there are other very pleasant topics to discuss, don’t you agree?"**

**"What did the colonel have in mind?" asked Diego, glancing at Monastario who watched the wine being poured. The captain lifted a hand indicating he only wanted a small amount.**

**O’Leary poured wine into everyone’s mug and filled them all to the brim and thought a moment. "For starters, let’s drop the formality bit, shall we? Just call me Paddy. Outside the bar, we can don our costumes and play our parts, but for now, let’s just be ourselves."**

**"What do you say to that, Capitán? Is it possible to be on a first name basis with the Comandante of Los Angeles?" asked Diego with a bemused smile.**

**"The comandante remains what he is whether on or off duty – to civilians," replied Monastario casually, but he was in deadly earnest. "However, the colonel may indulge himself, if he wishes."**

**"The wine here is quite good, just as you said it would be," O’Leary commented to Monastario, ignoring their exchange, "but I still long for some good Dublin stout. They have mild beers in Spain, but nothing matches Ireland."**

**"Why have you not returned to Ireland, then?" the captain asked in a challenging sort of way, but smiled pleasantly nonetheless.**

**"This head would not have a neck under it for long, my dear fellow," the Irishman explained. "The English are not too forgiving to patriots who take up arms against them. If you thought the French were savage, you have never seen the likes of English savagery against an occupied people resisting them or their rule."**

**Diego gave a visible shudder. "Well, Paddy, I hope that you will find our California wines good enough to help make up for the lack of stout. Perhaps you could start an importing business to introduce us to a fine drink."**

**"Ah, either the competition wouldn’t allow it or I’d drink it all before it got to market," laughed O’Leary. "I know myself too well and don’t have a head for business – all this profit and bills rubbish. I’ve always been a military man and always will be, I suppose. As they say, Enrique, you can take a man out of the military, but you can’t take the military out of the man."**

**"That can be a good thing," commented Monastario. "However, now that you are retired, at least for the present, you will have to accommodate yourself to civilian life. That will not be easy for you."**

**O'Leary smiled and put his arm around Monastario’s shoulder, much to that officer’s discomfort. "I’m glad you understand me so, well, Enrique. You know, Diego, I’ve had a fine reception in this town today, despite minor administrative annoyances. Why, the capitán himself recommended the wines. It’s heart-warming to find a fellow war hero, like Monastario here, to relate to."** ****

**When Diego raised an eyebrow at that comment, Monastario flicked his eyes over De la Vega and commented, "Don Diego is a poet and scholar. He knows nothing about the art of war and its glories." He smirked.**

**"You know, Enrique," said the colonel, looking into the intense blue eyes, "there are men like ourselves who contribute to the glory of Spain on the battlefield. But there are also other men who contribute to the glory of Spain by the brilliance of their literary talents, poetry and art. As cultured men ourselves, we need to appreciate both because the majority of people belong in neither category. They exist either to appreciate both or to live in ignorance of both."**

**"Colonel O’Leary," remarked Diego, "you neglected to mention the fact that you yourself are a philosopher, in addition to being a soldier. As such, you get along well with soldiers and scholars."**

**"Ah," responded O’Leary, dropping his arm from around the captain and taking up his mug again, "life without both is barren."**

**Diego looked at Monastario, "I don’t think the comandante will agree – on the cultural side, that is."**

**Enrique Monastario gave as good as he got. "Don Diego is right on that account. But you, De la Vega, are only half of the colonel’s equation as well. You do not appreciate the military side."**

**O’Leary smiled. "Ho, ho. You two lads are really opposite sides of the same Spanish coin, aren't you now?"**

**For once De la Vega and Monastario had to agree. "But there are some things that we will never see eye to eye on," the captain commented.**

**"Touché," replied Diego.**

****************************************************************************

**Don Alejandro de la Vega found that his son and manservant had left for town in the evening and he contemplated an evening home alone. The thought did not lay well with him in the least and he made the decision to travel into town himself. He might even find Diego at the tavern with some of the rancheros. The evening’s entertainment might prove interesting as well. It was said that a new dancer had arrived in town.**

**As Don Alejandro entered the tavern he beheld a sight that astonished him. He saw, to his amazement, that his son, Diego, was seated at the same table with Capitán Monastario enjoying a drink. At the same table was a stranger in military garb with astonishing red hair. He did a double take. The table was littered with bottles and the aftermath of a meal. Alejandro decided that he would find out what was going on later. He had no intention of interacting with the likes of Capitán Monastario, a man he considered a major enemy.**

**Diego saw his father and only gave him a look of recognition. O’Leary noticed everything, including the don’s expensive clothing. He saw the older man pocket his change at the bar and begin to speak to some of its patrons. He smiled to himself. A crowded tavern was a boon for more reasons than one.**

**"Where’s the entertainment?" O’Leary queried, "or is the frontier bereft of music?"**

**Diego decided tease the colonel. "If there is none tonight, perhaps we could make our own."**

**Monastario gave Diego an irritated look, knowing how little it took to provoke the Irishman into song. "A new dancer arrived yesterday. Perhaps she will make an appearance tonight."**

**"A comely lass, is she?" asked the colonel. "The capitán’s rules mean he’s the first to see any visitors, of course, especially the pretty ones." He gave the officer a sly smile.**

**"Come, Capitán, tell us what this dancer looks like," Diego pressed. He wanted to see if Monastario would bend a little.**

**"She’s dark," the officer said slowly and precisely, "like a Moor - small, dark hair, and black eyes. Barely speaks above a whisper. Won’t look you in the eye. Lower class."**

**"Ah, Monastario," sighed the colonel. "That’s not a very inspiring description. You know what the problem is? He needs to know some Irish girls. That would make you sit up and take notice, lad, in more ways than one."**

**"Why don’t you describe an Irish girl, Colonel," asked Diego with a grin. "I don’t believe I’ve seen one myself."**

**"Ah," began O’Leary. His eyes shone and took on a far-away look. "Flowing red, yellow, auburn or dark hair, down to the waist, soft as down, smelling like spring flowers and summer rains. Skin as soft as velvet, fair and often freckled. Their eyes – blue, green, gray, brown or black – dancing, thoughtful, or piercing. Rosy cheeks and fiery lips spouting poetry or brimstone or maybe just soft sighs. Then there’s the comely ankles, hips and bosom, which is all a matter of personal preference on the details." He smiled and emptied the last of the bottle into Diego’s mug.**

**"I’ll get another bottle," Diego volunteered, but O’Leary wouldn’t hear of it. "That’s all right, lad. I’ve been sitting here too long as it is and the quality needs to improve."**

**Diego watched as the colonel made his way back through the crowd, bumping into the clients and exchanging some small talk on his way to the bar. He turned back toward the capitán. "He’s quite a personality, Comandante. You two must go back a long way. When did he arrive in town?"**

**Monastario watched the colonel through the haze of cigar smoke. "Today on the coach," he answered. He frowned as if observing something for the first time.**

**Diego turned to see what Monastario was watching and saw O’Leary reach the bar. The man’s back was to him and he saw that he had struck up a conversation with another man he thought he recognized. When the colonel moved to get a bottle, he saw that the man was his father. Don Alejandro was smiling and turned back toward the bar after O’Leary left. He reached into his pocket and seemed unable to find what he was looking for. He looked puzzled and shook his head. He began speaking to the innkeeper and then to a neighbor. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.** ****

**Upon O’Leary’s return, Monastario stood up. "I’m afraid that I have some duties to attend to, Colonel. Thank you for your hospitality this evening. It has been enjoyable and enlightening."**

**"Don’t tell me you are leaving so soon," pouted the Irishman. "And I’ve just brought a new round."**

**"There is always another evening," the captain pointed out.**

**"Then I take it you will join me again. I want you here when the dancer makes her appearance," O’Leary insisted. "I want to see if your description of her bears out in the flesh." He smiled and winked.**

**"You may see me sooner than that. I believe you requested a ‘debriefing.’ Meet me at my office, say late tomorrow afternoon, then we can have another exchange. Until that time, Colonel." Monastario bowed and saluted the colonel. He nodded to Diego and left.**

**"You really amaze me, Colonel," said Diego in a voice full of wonder. "I believe that this is the longest time that the comandante ever socialized with anyone here at the tavern. He usually sits alone."**

**"The lad needs working on," commented the Irishman, sitting down at the table. "He’s a man in a lot of pain."**

**Diego looked startled. He only considered Monastario a brutal strongman, albeit one with a strange sense of humor at times. "I don’t think I know what you mean," he replied cautiously.**

**"Ah, well, it’s only obvious to me, I suppose, " the colonel mused. "I take it that he doesn’t have too many friends. How long has he been here?"**

**"Unfortunately for Los Angeles, he has been here a year. I think that all he has are enemies. You are the closest thing to a friend he has ever had."**

**"Now, that’s sad. It really is," the officer said. "You hate to see what war can do to men, especially when war became so much a part of their lives that it is all that they know………….and all that they have left."**

**"But you’re not that way, Paddy. You didn’t let all the wars twist you the way Monastario is. You have a love for many things – the kind of things that make us human and keep us human."**

**The red-haired man listened to Diego thoughtfully and pushed his own mug away to the center of the table. "I’m no saint, Diego, my friend. I’ve seen and done all sorts of horrors to other men myself. I’m still a sinner, but I try not to let it rule my life. There is a rainbow of colors in the world - it’s not all black and white, doom or die." He paused. "Now, I don’t know too much about Monastario in the here and now, but I can see that he’s never left the war behind. Why don’t you tell me what the lay of the land is. I prefer to be well-informed rather than walking blind into a new situation."**

**Diego sighed. There was so much that could be said. "Let me start with when I arrived a few months ago," he began.**  
  
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**[Chapter Six](http://bookscape.net/authors/colonel6.htm)**  
---  
**[Chapter One](http://bookscape.net/authors/colonel1.htm)**  
**[Zorro Contents](http://bookscape.net/zorrocontents.htm)**  
**[Main Page](http://bookscape.net/index.htm)**


	5. The Irish Colonel

The Irish Colonel

_**The Irish Colonel**_

_**by**_

_**Eugene Craig**_  
  
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****

**DAY ONE**

**Chapter 6**

**"Well, Bernardo, what do you think of the Irish colonel?" Diego asked his manservant upon leaving the tavern late that night. "I saw that he bought you a few drinks."** ****

**Bernardo nodded at the thought of the drinks, but he had an important observation that he wished to convey. But he waited until they climbed into the carriage. He did not want to be observed by anyone. After he sat down in the carriage seat, he began to gesture – first to himself and then to his eyes.** ****

**"All right, you saw him……do what?"**

**Bernardo did a reenactment of the colonel bumping into people, chatting with them, and moving on, and repeating this action a few times. Finally, he gestured with a visual description of a man that Diego knew all too well.** ****

**"Are you sure of what you are saying, Bernardo? You are telling me that all the men that Paddy O’Leary ‘accidentally’ bumped into, were men he picked the pockets of, including my father?"** ****

**Bernardo smiled sadly and shook his head affirmatively. He held up his hands to indicate the number of times he saw the action take place.**

**"Ten or twelve times? Just tonight? Are you serious? The colonel must be quite a professional, Bernardo," Diego shook his head just thinking about it. "You know, I really like that Irishman. There’s a real human heart that beats in his breast, despite his bad habits. If he were rich, what he wouldn’t do for people."**

**Bernardo nodded, but held up his hand. He indicated hands and pockets full of money – and then hands passing it all out.**

**"Yes, yes, I know what you mean. He steals, but then he gives it all away – one way or another. He makes sure he has enough to pay his bills and then he gives food and drinks away to everyone \- an interesting approach to wealth redistribution." Diego smiled. "I don’t think we’ll tell my father about it, yet, though. I’d really like him to meet Colonel O’Leary and I’d hate for him to be constantly checking his pockets for coins with the colonel standing there."**

**Bernardo nodded and laughed in his own way with an open mouth. He flicked the reins on the horses as he turned the carriage on the road out of town. When they got far enough out of town, Diego took over the reins to speed the trip up. When they got back to the hacienda, Diego discovered that his father had not yet returned. He decided to relax in the sala for a while before turning in. He kept thinking about what O’Leary had told him about Monastario and the information they had exchanged.**

**Bernardo came back in the room. He gestured to Diego who looked up. "Something else, Bernardo?"**

**The man nodded. He gestured as if describing someone with a mustache and beard. Then pointed to Diego and indicated taking a drink.** ****

**"All right. Monastario at the table. Taking a drink with him. Oh, that. You know, Bernardo, I had no idea that Paddy was going to sit me down at a table with the comandante – not in my wildest imagination. I know what you are thinking; my father is going to be asking the same question. But you know, Bernardo, Colonel O’Leary told me some things about Monastario that I would have never believed possible – that he wasn’t always the way he is now - cruel, manipulating, arrogant. It’s hard to believe, isn’t it? I must tell you more about it in the morning. It’s something I’d like to think about myself."** ****

**Bernardo gestured with his hands held up in despair and an _expression of bewilderment.**

**"I know. But how do we keep dealing with the problem that we have now – the problem that Monastario is what he is now, today, in the present – a tyrant? Perhaps the colonel has a few ideas that you and I – and Zorro – have not yet thought of yet. Or maybe it’s too late for even that. If you think of anything, be sure to let me know, too." Diego heaved a big sigh. "As for the present, well, we’ll just have to wait and see. I think I’ll turn in. That Irishman has a way of getting me to drink more than what I intend to – and what is good for me. And I always want this head clear for instant action." He paused a moment. "Come to think of it, Monastario is the same way. He never wants to be caught off his guard, and he’ll leave the table so that no one can make him tipsy." He shook his head. "Good night, Bernardo. There is much to sleep on tonight."**

******************************************************

**Don Alejandro de la Vega found himself at a table chatting with one of the most formidable conversationalists he had ever met in a long time. At first he was very wary, observing that the man had had Capitán Monastario at his table as a guest. But then, he had also had his own son, Diego, at the table as well, and now he himself sat at that same table. The colonel only bought the finest wine in the establishment and drank it slowly with much cultivation, savoring its fruity taste and comparing it very favorably to the wines of Europe. That was something that Alejandro could appreciate since he himself was a connoisseur of wines, including the sparkling variety, champagne.** ****

**"As I understand it, Colonel O’Leary, you spent some time in Malaga. I understand that even the Americanos have been shareholders in the largest vineyards there?"**

**"Aye, there was a family from New England, a wilderness area called Maine, that were part owners in some lands. Last name was Collins."**

**Alejandro was amused. "You Irish seem to be everywhere, Colonel. But where would the world be without you, especially Spain? The fidelity of the Irish to the cause of Spain is almost miraculous."** ****

**"Of course, all those pretty Spanish girls help keep us there," the colonel said with a smile and then leaned over towards the white-bearded don. "Some would even say they’re more important than the Pope in deciding such matters." He laughed.** ****

**Alejandro had to laugh, too, in spite of himself. "Just watch what you say outside the tavern, Colonel. They say that the padre has ears everywhere. You may find yourself in confession for weeks."** ****

**"Confessing my sins would keep the good padre busy for years. Since that is the case, I am, therefore, more inclined not burden him unduly and to let others share the booth ahead of me."** ****

**Alejandro grinned and shook his head. The man’s wit was a steady flow, like a refreshing river. "I’m glad you had the chance to meet my son, Diego. I hope you’ll pardon me if I did not come over to the table when I came in. I found the other company objectionable."**

**"Oh, so he’s your son, is he? That’s where he gets his good taste from," responded the colonel. "I asked him to meet me in town in the morning. It’s about a new wardrobe. I just can’t bear the thought of wearing civilian garb again, but the comandante keeps reminding me that I’m retired. Damnation, I’m not that much older than he is."**

**"Diego or Monastario?" joked Alejandro.**

**"Now, I’m not too inclined to answer that because, like a sword, it has a double edge," replied O’Leary in the same light-hearted spirit. "Both are young men, but one with the burden of the Ages on his shoulders and the other, a relative innocent."**

**"Just how well do you know Monastario?" asked Alejandro, "let alone my son? Can you judge both men in a single sitting so well?"**

**"Your point is well taken. But you need to know this - I knew Monastario back in Spain – a long time ago. We were in the same theatres of operation on many fronts and in many battles. We were younger then, with barely any beard and our hearts still full of ideals and decency. Both of us served with the partisans and both of us witnessed and participated in all the horror that was that war. Actually, the word ‘horror’ is inadequate to describe. It was endless hell." The colonel looked at his drink and studied the liquor a while. "That is why I call your son a ‘relative innocent.’ I don’t mean any disrespect at all. I have a high regard for him because he is intelligent and cultured."**

**"I understand, " Alejandro said in a quiet voice, but the colonel continued as if he had heard nothing.**

**"But Monastario had high stakes in the war because of the worst betrayal that could ever befall a proud young man like himself – and none of it his doing." The colonel paused and shook his head rather sadly. "It will surprise you to hear me describe him as a victim of all the worst aspects of the French invasion, occupation, and war."**

**"A victim? Monastario?" Alejandro exclaimed.**

**"But instead of learning to reject the worst aspects of that horror, he embraced it. He learned that cruelty was a most effective tool and that, if you did not grab what you could for yourself, others would do it instead. What did this mean to a man, especially to an aristocrat, who had lost everything – and who longed to reclaim it and the glory that it once represented?"**

**"Colonel, I feel like I’m swimming in circles. What exactly happened to Monastario that’s made him the tyrant he is today?"**

**"The bottle’s empty again," O’Leary remarked. "Why don’t we continue this**

**conversation tomorrow? Don’t misunderstand me. I’m not excusing his behavior or the choices he’s made. I, myself, am trying to see how the young man I once knew in the regiment has become what he is today. Believe me when I tell you, though, there still is a little bit of the original man there. It’s just that it’s so submerged in darkness, I….well, good night, my friend. I’m very sorry that I don’t even have the mind to sing ‘The Parting Glass’ with you."**

**"You know, Colonel, I still believe that, despite what you’ve told me, and in spite my own curiosity, my attitude toward him, my outrage about what he is and what he does, will not change. He has committed injustices that are, to my mind, unforgivable. If any of the original man does exist, what has happened to his conscience?"**

**O’Leary held the older man’s eyes with his own as he stood up and nodded in understanding. He patted Alejandro on the shoulder and made his way towards the stairs. The innkeeper accosted him at the bottom of the stairs and the colonel reached into his pocket and pulled out several coins. The innkeeper smiled.**

**Alejandro watched the colonel until he disappeared in the corridor above and rose to leave himself. He, too, would have to sleep on what he had learned and he wondered whether he could believe everything the Irishman had told him. He shrugged, placed a tip on the table and left.**  
  
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**[Chapter Seven](http://bookscape.net/authors/colonel7.htm)**  
---  
**[Chapter One](http://bookscape.net/authors/colonel1.htm)**  
**[Zorro Contents](http://bookscape.net/zorrocontents.htm)**  
**[Main Page](http://bookscape.net/index.htm)**


	6. The Irish Colonel

The Irish Colonel

_**The Irish Colonel**_

_**by**_

_**Eugene Craig**_  
  
---  
  
****

**Day Two**

**Chapter 7**

**"No, I don’t like that either. It’s all the wrong color. No. The cut of the jacket is bad. Christ Jesus, can’t they make decent clothing now days? Let’s look at the shirts. They’ve got to be better."** ****

**Diego shook his head. The woman with gray hair waiting on them in the store looked exasperated. There was no satisfying Paddy O’Leary. He must have tried on a half a dozen frock coats, looked at the various neckties, and poured over everything in detail. The only thing he liked was a green sash. Diego could only suggest that he consider wearing an outfit like his own, that of a ranchero. Maybe tomorrow, the Irishman had said. Finally, Diego came up with a suggestion."Listen, Paddy. Why don’t you wear your army blouse, a black frock coat and keep the breeches and boots. As you feel more comfortable, then you can start wearing other civilian attire. You can make a transition."**

**"I know I’m a royal pain in the rear for you, Diego, but this transition thing is pure torture for me. The blouse is just fine, but it just doesn’t look right with a frock coat, but maybe it would be better than nothing. Why can’t they carry a nice dark green frock? Now, I like your idea about the breeches and boots. Well, I’ll put it on tomorrow. I know Monastario is going to bait me, but what the devil. Let him," O’Leary complained. "I’m ready to re-enlist. I’d even go back as a major. Hell, I’d go back as a captain. It’d be a devil of a demotion, though, but at least I could bear it. I like your brown hat, though. I’ll get one for meself."**

**Diego could only roll his eyes when the colonel’s back was turned. A sash and a hat. Well, it was a beginning. Maybe O’Leary was right: he needed to re-enlist.** ****

**"I’ve got to meet an acquaintance here in town, Paddy," Diego said as they walked out of the general store. "Perhaps we can meet this evening at the inn."**

**"I’ll be in better humor by then," mused O’Leary. "I have a little mission of my own to tend to at the church."**

**Diego could only imagine what the Irishman was up to. "Perhaps Padre Felipe could help out with how you look in civilian clothes, Paddy. He’s honest."** ****

**The Irishman only smiled.**

****************************************************************************

**Paddy O’Leary entered the church. It was cool and quiet and he wanted to be alone a while and think out his short-term future. He removed his hat and gazed at the altar. There was only one other person in the church and he looked closely to see whom it might be. A young lady by the appearance of it, a few pews back from the front. He knelt, crossed himself and moved up to within hearing distance and with a good view of her.**

**He got on his knees and was quiet a spell before he started mumbling and made himself annoying to anyone who might be seeking some meditation. Finally, the young lady turned around and looked at him. He pretended not to see her, closed his eyes, and went on in a similar vein until she got up and came over to him, making her way into the pew.**

**"Señor," she whispered, sitting close to him. "Could you please pray to yourself? I can hear you three rows away."** ****

**He opened his eyes and looked startled. "Heaven bless me," he said, as if seeing an apparition. "The Lord has sent an angel to me, an answer to me prayers."** ****

**The young lady looked taken aback. "I am not an angel, Señor." She paused in consternation. "Are you all right?"** ****

**The colonel blinked several times as if coming out of a trance. "Oh, ah." He blinked again. His eyes came into focus. "Oh, begging your pardon, young Señorita, " he stammered. "I was so deep into prayer that I mistook you for…how silly of me. Grant a poor soldier of Ireland a boon."**

**"A boon?" she repeated. "I don’t understand."**

**"Just forgiveness," he smiled.**

**The young lady looked a little exasperated. "Very well," she answered, "Granted." With that, she rose and headed down the isle to leave the church.**

**O’Leary hastened out after her. When she reached the doors, she turned around and looked behind her. "Señor, are you following me?"**

**"Who me? No, not at all. It’s just that I’m all prayed out for today. I’ve made a mess of my prayers and ought to try again tomorrow."**

**"Do you go to church everyday?" she asked as if interested.**

**"I try, young miss, I try," O’Leary replied in a voice full of sincerity. "I’ve got more sins to atone for than a dog has hairs."**

**The young lady smiled at that. "I find that hard to believe." She looked him over more carefully. "Have you just recently arrived, Señor?" she asked. "I don’t believe I know you. Your uniform is different. I mean, it’s a different color."** ****

**"Colonel Patrick James O’Leary, Royal Irish Regiment, at your service," he responded somewhat dramatically, making a sweeping bow. "I trust I do you no harm in speaking with you. Have you no chaperon, no dueña?"**

**The young woman blushed. "My mother is meeting me here very soon," she began.**

**"Well, I won’t speak another word to you until she arrives. I wouldn’t want anyone to think that we’ve not been proper."**

**"You’re very kind," she smiled and lowered her eyes modestly.** ****

**He walked away with his hands clasped behind his back, but did not stray too far. She was a nice looking young lady, he thought, about eighteen or twenty years of age, brown hair and fair of figure. She wore a cross around her neck and was well spoken, even educated, but also a little shy. He was impressed that she wore a green dress, just the color he liked. His favorite color as a matter of fact. _Come on, little mother_ , he thought _, I hate waiting_. He heard a voice just inside the church door, and guessed it to be the priest. He retraced his steps and stepped back inside the doors. There, he saw a white-haired padre in brown Franciscan robes with a look of timeless serenity on his face.**

**The padre looked up and saw a stranger. He smiled, but before he could speak, the man clasped his hands with some urgency. "Padre, I beg your forgiveness, but there’s an urgent matter at hand."**

**"What is it, my son?" the padre looked concerned.**

**The military officer almost pulled the priest out through the church doors. When the good padre stepped out onto the stone walk, he saw one of his young parishioners there. There was no one else.**

**"Padre, this young lady has no chaperon and, being I was the only person here, I thought it best that you be here so no one would think that my saying ‘Good day’ to her might be construed as a sin."** ****

**The padre smiled. "Good morning to you, Señorita Elena. It seems you have a military escort as well as a spiritual one."**

**The young woman smiled. "Good day, Father Felipe. The Señor Colonel seems to think I need a chaperone, but I told him that Mother is coming for me right away. It was very kind of him to show such concern."**

**"Colonel, welcome to Los Angeles," smiled the padre turning to O’Leary. "I am Padre Felipe. I am always glad to welcome a gentleman into our fold. I don’t think, however, that exchanging a few pleasantries with Señorita Elena could ever be misconstrued as a ‘sin.’ There are far worse sins than that."** ****

**"Thank Heaven, to that, then," replied the Irishman. "Colonel Count Patrick James O’Leary at your service, Holy Father. It was such a relief being in church again after such a long voyage." He paused. "This seems like such a fine town. Why, already I’ve met with some very grand gentlemen who’ve made me feel right at home."**

**"That’s good news, Colonel O’Leary. There are many fine families here in our community," the padre responded.**

**"And just whom have you met, Colonel O'Leary?" asked the Señorita Elena with a touch of doubt in her voice. She wanted to see if the ‘gentlemen’ were indeed ‘grand.’**

**"Why, Don Alejandro de la Vega and his son, Diego. Diego and I went shopping at the general store this morning and he’s a fine judge of the latest fashion," O’Leary remarked casually.**

**He could see that the priest and the young lady were both impressed by his new social acquaintances. "Do you know them well, by any chance?" he asked her.**

**"Oh, yes," she replied. "The De la Vegas are very close to my family. They are our neighbors and one of the most important families in all of Los Angeles."**

**"As is Señorita Elena's. Her father, Don Ignacio, is also an important ranchero. I am sure you will meet him," said Padre Felipe. "And here comes Señora Torres in her carriage."**

**"Now, Holy Father," whispered O’Leary in a confidential tone, just loud enough to be overheard by the young lady, "don’t say anything about my royal blood. I just want to be introduced as plain Colonel O’Leary of the Irish Regiment. None of my other titles are important. It might tend to create distance between us and I left all that behind me in Spain. It’s a new world, it is, and that’s why I’m here."**

**"Very well, Colonel," the priest replied. "Ah, good day, Señora Torres. What a beautiful day it is."**  
  
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**[Chapter Eight](http://bookscape.net/authors/colonel8.htm)**  
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**[Chapter One](http://bookscape.net/authors/colonel6.htm)**  
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	7. The Irish Colonel

The Irish Colonel

_**The Irish Colonel**_

_**by**_

_**Eugene Craig**_  
  
---  
  
****

**Day Two**

**Chapter 8**

**Patrick O’Leary was smiling to himself and humming an old war song as he made his way across the plaza to the cuartel late that afternoon.**

**So, don’t wait up for me, little darlin’**

**There’s plenty of dragoons here in town**

**The lancers have driven out ‘Boney’**

**and the French for miles around.**

**When he arrived at the gates of the cuartel he saw Sergeant García speaking to a corporal. He cleared his throat, "Top of the day to you, Sergeant García."** ****

**The big man turned around. "Ah, Colonel O’Leary," he responded, saluting. "The comandante said that you would be here this afternoon." He looked the colonel over noticing his altered dress. "Is this a new military fashion – a long green sash and a brown hat? With your uniform jacket?" García was puzzled.**

**"I’m in pain, Sergeant, grave pain," the colonel said in a miserable tone of voice and put a hand against the cuartel wall.** ****

**"You are?" García looked concerned, but felt helpless before such a senior officer. "Corporal Reyes, " he said, turning to the short corporal who held his rifle at his side, "help the colonel. He is in pain."**

**The corporal looked confused. "He is? Where, Sergeant?"**

**"I don’t know, baboso. Put your rifle down and find out, stupid."**

**Corporal Reyes propped his rifle up against the wall and looked askance at the colonel.**

**"How can I help you, Señor Colonel? Where is the pain? Maybe we should get a doctor, Sergeant."**

**The colonel looked at the two soldiers wearily. "I’m afraid there’s nothing you lads can do for me. It’s the transition. It’s killing me."** ****

**"The ‘transition’, Colonel? I don’t think I understand," responded García uncertainly.**

**"‘Transition,’ Sergeant. Imagine, having to transform yourself from an officer of the Regiment into a mere, lowly civilian. I can hardly do it. It’s making me ill. Look at me, Sergeant, I’m a hybrid – neither man nor mule, but a mixture of both."**

**"You don’t look like a mule to me, Colonel," said the corporal, looking the officer over carefully.**

**"Thank you, Corporal," sighed O’Leary. "What a relief. If it were not so early in the day, I’d have myself a drop of the barley and salute you for your profound analysis."**

**García looked a bit perplexed, but the image of a drink inspired him. "Oh, Colonel," he said. "I never did thank you for the wine you bought me yesterday."**

**"Think nothing of it, Sergeant," the colonel responded. "We’ll do it again, I’m sure."**

**García literally beamed at that. "I hope so, Colonel. The wines here are very good. And perhaps you could sing more songs from the war. I remembered all of the ones you sang, too. But no one sings them here any more." He looked sad for a moment.**

**"Now what is wine without song? And what is song without women?" asked the colonel cheerfully. "Just the thought of it makes me feel a little better."**

**"And food. What is wine and song without food?" responded García enthusiastically. "All three together would make me very happy."**

**"I think they already do," noted O’Leary, giving the sergeant’s bulk a once-over. "Now, would you announce me to Capitán Monastario? I believe the dear man is expecting me."**

**"’Dear man’? " whispered Reyes to García. "Whom is he talking about, Sergeant?"**

**"The comandante, stupid. Colonel O’Leary knew him from a long time ago," replied García. He turned back to the Irishman. "At once, Señor Colonel!" he said in a loud voice and went inside the cuartel.**

**The Irishman turned to Reyes. "Ah, Corporal Reyes, you’re a fine fellow. Do you partake of ‘the Nectar of the Gods’ as well?"**

**"’The Nectar of the Gods’?" asked Reyes. "I don’t think I understand."**

**"Ah, I see you’re an honest man. What I mean is, do you like to drink wine, Corporal?"** ****

**"Oh, yes, very much so, Señor Colonel," replied Reyes. He perked up right away. "Don’t you have anyone to drink with tonight?" He looked so sincerely hopeful that O’Leary took pity on him.**

**"Tonight, yes, but, this afternoon? No. I was hoping that some soldier might like to reminisce about the good old days and share a drop of the vintage with me when this meeting is over. Say, you wouldn’t know anyone who’d like to, would you?" he asked.**

**"Well, Sergeant García and I are off duty in two hours, Colonel, if you don’t mind drinking with ordinary soldiers," Reyes responded a little timidly. He had never shared a drink with such a high-ranking officer before, even a retired one.**

**"Ah, now that sounds like a fine plan to me, Corporal. Head on over to the tavern and wait for me. But there is a small catch to the plan, if you know what I mean."**

**The corporal looked puzzled. "A small catch?"**

**O’Leary looked around and drew Reyes into his conspiracy. "Yes, Corporal, I will buy you all the drinks you want, if you will tell me what I want to know."** ****

**Reyes looked askance. "Uh, what do you want to know, Señor Colonel?"** ****

**"It’s like this," O’Leary began. He whispered in the corporal’s ear.** ****

**Reyes looked thoughtful. "Oh, I think that’s all right, Colonel. There’s nothing that Sergeant García and I don’t know that everybody else doesn’t know either."** ****

**"How profound. That’s all right. Ah, here’s Sergeant García."** ****

**"The comandante will see you right away, Colonel O’Leary," the big man boomed out.**

**And the both of them entered through the high wooden gates of the cuartel.** ****

*********************************************************************** ****

**When Patrick O’Leary entered the comandante’s office, Enrique Monastario was standing behind his desk holding some papers. He took one look at O’Leary and burst out laughing. He shook his head at the ridiculousness of it and put the papers down on the desk.** ****

**"Not you, too," O’Leary moaned. "I’m trying to make the blessed transition and I find I’ve become the butt of everyone’s depraved sense of humor."** ****

**"Really, Colonel," lectured Monastario, "this is absurd. The green sash is not bad at all, but it reminds me of the French Directory style. And the brown hat is really out of place…with the uniform that is."** ****

**"Christ Jesus, I even removed my epaulettes. How much more can an officer degrade himself? I feel like I’ve been drummed out of the corps."** ****

**"Get ahold of yourself, O’Leary," the captain responded forcefully. "The best thing to do is just put on an entire suit of clothes. Forget the transition. If you were a nobleman, that would be …"**

**O’Leary’s face took on a look of astonishment and then, unrestrained fury. " ** _If_** I was a nobleman? Why, you tin-plated third child of a minor aristocrat," he shouted. "I, Padraig Seamus O’Laeghaire, am the descendant of Luy Maccon, king of Ireland and founder of the Corca Laidhe of County Cork. Our blood is traceable to the Third Century! We possessed more land in Ireland than half the so-called nobles of Navarre or Aragon – from the mountains of Uibh Laoghaire and Inchigeelagh to the Kerry Mountains, from Rosscarbery to Ballyleary and beyond! Upholders of the sacred Gaelic Order were we and protectors of Saint Patrick himself, blessed be his name! Who else carries the proud motto "Laidir ise Lear Righ" on the family crest? In whose veins flows the blood of Laoghaire, son of Ros, son of Eirc, men who were chieftains and whose descendants left Ireland to fight with d’Aquila after Kinsale?"** ****

**When he finished his tirade, the room was quiet. So was the entire cuartel. It took all of Enrique Monastario’s iron self-discipline not to reply in kind. He walked over to a cabinet, opened it up, and took out two glasses and a bottle of brandy. Without saying a word, he poured the liquor out and walked over to the red-faced Irishman and handed him a glass. He put the bottle down on his desk and gave O’Leary a grim look.**

**Patrick O’Leary looked at the glass and then looked at Monastario. "Here’s to our lost inheritances and to our noble blood," he said in a quiet voice, raising his glass to the capitán.** ****

**Enrique Monastario nodded. "To our noble blood, which will always be noble, and to our good fortune that will more than make up for our lost inheritances," he responded firmly.**

**The two men clicked their glasses and drank. Monastario poured O’Leary out another glass full. "I believe I owe you a dinner, Paddy," he said affably, even though O’Leary waved his hand to indicate it was not an obligation. He had the colonel at a moment of weakness and wanted to exploit it now that O’Leary felt a bit contrite. "I can’t have you picking pockets, Colonel. It’s undignified. However, you can still have gainful employment with the military establishment here in Los Angeles."**

**The colonel did not look in the least fazed by the captain’s statement of fact. He only smiled. "Well, Enrique, it’s all in how you go about picking pockets. Me, I choose the most direct and fair way of expropriation. But I never rob from the poor. From what I gather, you also pick pockets, but much more democratically. You pinch everyone. And rather hard."**

**Monastario gave him a smile. "I actually approve of your intelligence gathering capabilities. I believe that was your specialty when you served Espoz y Mina. It served very well then and it can serve very well now. Are you interested?"**

**"Am I to be garbed as a civilian spy or a military one, Capitán?" O’Leary asked. "And then there is the price to be worked out for my 'intelligence'."**

**"It would be to our mutual benefit that you complete your transition to civilian life, Colonel, the sooner the better," remarked the blue-eyed captain. "Your dramatics are impressive, but I want your cold, hard logic, the kind of hard work and logic that won you ** _your_** Cross of Valor and promotions. I have a problem here in Los Angeles and I intend to solve it. I'll make it well worth your while."**

**"Does your problem have a name, Enrique?" asked O’Leary, although he already knew the answer.**

**"The problem’s name is ‘El Zorro.’**  
  
---  
  
**[Chapter Nine](http://bookscape.net/authors/colonel9.htm)**  
---  
**[Chapter One](http://bookscape.net/authors/colonel1.htm)**  
**[Zorro Contents](http://bookscape.net/zorrocontents.htm)**  
**[Main Page](http://bookscape.net/index.htm)**


	8. The Irish Colonel

The Irish Colonel

_**The Irish Colonel**_

_**by**_

_**Eugene Craig**_  
  
---  
  
**DAY TWO**

**Chapter 9**

**Corporal Reyes and Sergeant García were already seated at a table in the tavern by the time the colonel arrived. Both heaved a sigh of relief when he walked through the door, but immediately looked concerned when he walked right past them as if he had not seen them at all. García got up from his seat and followed the colonel to the bar.**

**"Oh, Colonel O'Leary," began García in his friendliest of voices. "We've been waiting for you, just like you asked us to."**

**O'Leary whirled around. "Why, if it isn't Sergeant García. I didn't even see you. You must blend right into the scenery, like a blade of grass."**

**The sergeant looked at himself a moment. "Like a blade of grass?" He looked around the room. It was empty of clients, except for themselves. "Well, perhaps. We have a spot for you at the table." He gestured toward the table and to Corporal Reyes.**

**"Ah, yes, now I remember. Two bottles for the table, Innkeeper," ordered the colonel and put down some coins. He made his way over to the table with the sergeant.**

**Corporal Reyes stood up and saluted the colonel. He would only sit down after O'Leary did.**

**"You have the fine manners of a genteel spirit, Corporal Reyes," the colonel commented. "Tell me, does your personality change with a few drinks?"**

**"Thank you, Colonel, for inviting us for wine," responded Reyes. "I don't change with any drinks. I stay myself."**

**"Corporal Reyes only gets sleepy with a lot of wine," volunteered García, "but he doesn't change."**

**"Now, here's the wine, gentlemen," interrupted the Irishman as the barmaid put two bottles down on the table. He filled all the mugs to the brim and saw how pleased the two soldiers were at his generosity. "Let's drink a toast, shall we?"**

**"A toast," repeated García. "What would the colonel like to drink a toast to?"**

**"For starters, to the pretty maid who brought us the glass," the colonel smiled, winking at the dark-haired girl who smiled, tossed her head and looked back over her shoulder at him.**

**"To the pretty maid who brought us the glass," repeated García and Reyes.**

**All three took a swig. O'Leary continued: "And here's to the handsome soldiers who polish the brass." He inclined his mug to the soldiers. They all drank a second time.**

**"And to the Colonel, who pays in cash," laughed García, lifting his mug to salute the colonel, for the third time.**

**"And to the comandante, who wields the lash," volunteered Reyes in a low voice.**

**"What kind of a toast is that, Corporal?" admonished García.**

**"It just rhymes, that's all. You know, cash, lash, bash, smash," answered Reyes.**

**García looked annoyed. "You'll have to excuse the corporal, Colonel," he said to O'Leary. "Sometimes he doesn't use the few brains that he has."**

**"That's all right, Sergeant," responded the colonel. "It actually helps me get to the point. I want to ask you, confidentially, of course, what you think of how things are run here. And how are you treated by the comandante?"**

**"Well, if you must know the truth, Colonel, it is good and bad here," said García. Reyes nodded.**

**"What exactly do you mean, Sergeant?"**

**García looked over at Reyes as if seeking his approval. "Well, when Capitán Monastario first came here a year ago, he made sure that all the food we ate was good. That made us happy. Then he made everyone clean up the barracks, go out on patrol, guard the cuartel twenty-four hours a day, and obey his orders without question. He said we needed discipline. Once, he even shot a soldier for challenging his orders. Nobody asks any questions anymore."** ****

**"That's not unusual. What happened after that?"** ****

**"After that, the comandante began to use the soldiers to collect the taxes and to arrest anyone who did not pay the taxes. He arrested the Indians, the peons, the rancheros, anyone and everyone. Sometimes they were even whipped or beaten. That was the bad part. The jails were filled, like peas in a pod."**

**"Like fish in a barrel," chimed in Reyes.**

**"Who gave him the authority to raise the taxes so high?" asked O'Leary.**

**"I don't know," responded García. "Capitán Monastario told me that he has the authority, as comandante, to raise the taxes in order to build roads, pay for security, and to keep law and order."**

**"And do you think that has been achieved?" O’Leary poured more wine.**

**"Well, I think so, Colonel. For example, there are no cattle rustlers here in Los Angeles, although they plague much of California, even Monterey. Capitán Monastario found out about the robbers, planned an ambush, caught them all and hanged them all."**

**"Was there a trial?" asked O'Leary.**

**"Oh, no," answered both soldiers at once, shaking their heads.**

**"Capitán Monastario said that outlaws did not need a trial, they only needed justice." García took a deep drink of wine. "Then there were some murders. The Capitán caught the murderers. Both of them were Indians. A ranchero said they had murdered his head vaquero. The Indians said they had the right to avenge his cruelty. The Capitán said no Indian had any right to kill a white man. The ranchero did not want both Indians to die. He admitted that the vaquero had been cruel. But Monastario said it was too late for him to be sorry. Now it was in the hands of the military and that the justice of the military was not to permit anyone but the comandante to determine the punishment for crime."**

**"Did he hang both Indians?" asked the Irishman.**

**"No," said García. "He said he would show mercy. The Indian who killed the vaquero was hanged. The one who helped him was shot."**

**"How about the roads or 'security?'**

**"Capitán Monastario forces the Indians to maintain the roads with their labors. All families must supply a man to work on such projects twice a year for several weeks. The roads are kept in good repair, but if the comandante does not like the work, he will order them to be whipped." García paused. "As for security, the comandante is the security. If you do what he says, you are secure. If you do not, you are not secure."**

**"That is a very astute observation, Sergeant, " commented O’Leary thoughtfully. "How does he treat you and the other soldiers?" He re-filled their mugs again with wine.**

**García was silent a moment. He looked over at Reyes and uttered a deep sigh. "The capitán is always calling me an idiot, or stupid, or a fool. Sometimes, he even kicks me in the rear if I make a mistake. He tells me I'm incompetent and that he should get rid of me."**

**"How about you, Corporal?"**

**"The comandante has never said anything to me like he does to the sergeant, Señor Colonel. He calls me an idiot. I think that he ignores me most of the time now. But, some times he calls all of us soldiers 'stupid idiots.'"**

**" ** _Most_** ofthe time, Corporal," sighed García.**

**"I don’t suppose that you would be willing to die for Monastario, would you?" asked the colonel slyly. "I mean, is your affection for him so high, that you would be glad to die for him?"**

**Reyes shook his head. "I don’t think so." He looked at García.**

**"We will die for the Capitán, if he orders us to die, Colonel," said García. "But I don’t think that anybody ** _wants_** to die for him."**

**"You know, lads, there was a time, once upon a time, back during the war, when we would have died for him. And he would have died for us, willingly, even with enthusiasm. Looks like things have changed." The Irishman removed his brown hat. "Let us remember old loyalties and the noble dead." He took a drink himself.**

**Everyone at the table was silent a moment. Reyes found himself staring at the colonel’s red hair. "Uh, Colonel, what did the capitán used to be like? I mean, during the war."**

**O’Leary smiled sadly. "Young. We were all so young back then. He was one of the most audacious officers in the regiment. He would be the first to charge out, the first to bring back prisoners, the first to find you a horse if yours had been shot out from underneath you. He was the first to leap to the defense of his comrades in combat. He was the best swordsman in the regiment."**

**"Really? The comandante used to do those things?" asked Reyes. He was almost awed by the thought. "He's really different now, except he still is the best swordsman. Well, almost the best swordsman. Zorro is the best swordsman."**

**"The comandante is always on the move, Colonel," said García. "Sometimes, he even hunts for Zorro from midnight to dawn. He rides all over Los Angeles almost every day. He knows all the land, the valleys, the arroyos, the hidden springs. He is a very smart man, but he has many enemies. As a matter of fact, I think almost everyone is his enemy."**

**"Why do you think that he has so many enemies?" asked O’Leary.**

**The big sergeant shook his head. "I don’t think people like to be treated badly. The capitán gives orders to everyone, even to civilians. He doesn’t seem to care about anyone. He doesn’t care if he hurts someone’s feelings. He doesn’t want anyone to know something better than he does or to question him. He gets angry if you don’t understand what he means. Sometimes he uses words I don’t understand and then gets mad because I don’t understand him."**

**The Irishman patted the Sergeant’s arm. "I think that calls for a few more rounds," he said. "You lads have been very honest with me and I salute you."**

**García smiled. "Thank you, Colonel O’Leary. You are very generous and you have a lot of patience with everyone, I can see that. I hope you won’t mind if I say that I would very much like to have you as a comandante." Reyes nodded in agreement.**

**"With such fine words, you’ve just earned yourself another bottle of wine, García," smiled the Irishman and gestured the barmaid over. "Now, enough of this serious business. I think there are a few old songs we could share. Do you have any favorites?"**

**García beamed. "I know a lot of songs," he smiled. He put down his mug a moment, wiped his mouth with his sleeve and began to sing.**

**"The Army, The Army**

**The noble Spanish army**

**It couldn't get along without the Sergeants…."**

**O’Leary laughed and found himself marveling at the fine quality of the man’s voice. As long as he kept the mugs filled, the singing went on without end. Finally, the corporal fell asleep at the table.**  
  
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**[Chapter Ten](http://bookscape.net/authors/colonel10.htm)**  
---  
**[Chapter One](http://bookscape.net/authors/colonel1.htm)**  
**[Zorro Contents](http://bookscape.net/zorrocontents.htm)**  
**[Main Page](http://bookscape.net/index.htm)**


	9. The Irish Colonel

The Irish Colonel

_**The Irish Colonel**_

_**by**_

_**Eugene Craig**_  
  
---  
  
**DAY TWO**

**Chapter 10**

**Patrick O’Leary was washing up for dinner in his room. Gathering information was one of the loves of his life, although sometimes it could literally be a headache. _Morning is the time to pity the sober_ , he thought. _The way they feel then is the best they’re going to feel all day long_.**

**He smiled and reached for his musk oil. It should be a special night. He had it from the innkeeper himself that the dancer would perform and he wanted to enjoy a professional dancer and probe a bit into Monastario’s mindset. Tomorrow would be his ordeal of fire. He came to the conclusion that he would pack away his uniform for the time being and assume the identity of a Californian**

**And this new identity, no matter how uncomfortable at first, might get him a number of places fast. There was, after all, a new young lady and her rich parents to cultivate, as well as the De la Vegas. He was almost sorry he had picked Alejandro’s pocket without knowing who he was first, but Alejandro was rich enough to afford it.**

**And then there was the padre who had invited him to an auction to raise money for charity. He could meet all sorts of townspeople and make a fine impression. Then, he wanted to find out all that he could about the mysterious outlaw, Zorro. But, people would only talk once they felt comfortable with him and he wanted them to feel very comfortable, very trusting. And someone they could confide in.**

**Finally, there was Enrique. _Ah, old friend, there was a time when I trusted you with my life, and you did the same with me. But now, I wonder if I’d trust you about as far as I could throw you._ Was there anything left of the old friend or the old friendship? Perhaps only time will tell _. But one thing I am sure of, old friend: you will not make an enemy of me because to do so will cause you more pain than you ever dreamt_. He did not want it to come to that.**

**Patrick O’Leary combed his hair and mustache carefully, put on his uniform with its epaulettes and red sash. His boots were carefully polished. He took the green hat with the white band and decided to enjoy the sunset as a member of the Irish Regiment for the last time in Los Angeles, California, New Spain, colony of the great Spanish Empire. _Christ Jesus, I’ve prepared for and am going to my own funeral. I’ll even strap on the saber to complete the show. Chin up, me lad_ , he thought as he opened the door and prepared to descend the stairs _. The evening is still young and I’ll go out like flame burnt to its last ember_.**

***************************************************************************

**Diego de la Vega and his servant, Bernardo, rode into town earlier in the day to attend to some business for Alejandro. It was late afternoon, when Diego spotted Patrick O’Leary coming out of the inn, fully attired in his regimental uniform. Diego shook his head, wondering what was the point of it all. O’Leary spotted him and waved him over.**

**"Good afternoon, Colonel," Diego greeted him cheerfully. "Tell me, what is the special occasion? You look ready for a parade."**

**"Ah, young Don, I’ve actually prepared meself for me own funeral. This is the last you’ll see of Colonel Patrick James O’Leary. Tomorrow a new phoenix will arise from the ashes of the dead," deadpanned the Irishman. "But I do have a small favor to ask of you."**

**"Anything, Colonel," said Diego.**

**"I’d like to know if you would mind riding with me out of town for a spell. Just to take in the scenery, that is," the man smiled and one green eye winked at Diego.**

**"Bernardo will fetch the horses and let you ride his. He can wait for our return here in town," Diego said and began to gesture to his servant. Bernardo nodded and left.**

**"Ah, thank you, Diego. I’ve decided that all your advice to me is worth implementing on the morrow. Tonight is the time for last rites, but we’ll enjoy the view, have a few drinks and watch the dancer. I have it on good word that she’ll be the entertainment tonight."**

**"Will the comandante be there as well?" asked Diego in an amused tone. "From what you told me, he’s expected to be on hand to confirm or deny the unflattering description he made of her."** ****

**"Enrique mentioned the fact today that he owes me a dinner, but I don’t like to think of things in those terms. It implies that it’s an obligation rather than a pleasure."**

**"You know, Colonel, I think you are beginning to understand the capitán a little more," Diego pointed out.**

**"It still bothers me considerably, Diego, to think of Enrique in only those terms. I suppose he’ll have to convince me by his own actions. That should start fairly soon, come to think of it." O’Leary mused. "Ah, here’re the horses."**

**Diego and the Irish colonel mounted and rode out of town in a leisurely manner, taking the road toward the San Gabriel Mission and then westward toward the setting sun.**

*************************

**Patrick O’Leary found himself scouting the road and hills ahead. There was much of the area that reminded him of central and southern Spain, with the hills, valleys, dry grasses and dirt roads. But all other semblance ended there. The valley was vast, with little human habitation in comparison to the lands in Spain. Here, there were no castles dotting the skylines, or fortified cities or Roman aqueducts or Moorish fountains. There was an openness among the people, despite the heavy hand of the comandante, and the innocence of the place was refreshing.**

**"My friend, do you see that hillock up yonder? Let’s race to it," the colonel said, then dug his heels into the horse and began a race up the slope.**

**Diego immediately reined in his horse and pursued O’Leary. His palomino began to overtake the other’s horse as they neared the top and the short run gave Diego a chance to see O’Leary’s fine horsemanship over such terrain.**

**When they reached the top, Diego complemented the colonel on his traveling over unfamiliar terrain. "Ah, this is old hat, Diego," the colonel responded. "It’s like the old days in the Army and with the partisans. How we traveled the narrow valleys and hills in pursuit of the French and, at times, retreating from their plans to snare us. But I wanted to see the view from here, looking down on the road and overlooking some of the vales behind us." He sat back in the saddle and looked out over the valley to the blue mountains to the north, now turning orange with the beginning of sunset. "Nice view. The green trees are quite a stark contrast to the yellow hills, but there’s a splendid beauty to the place."**

**"We like to think so, Paddy," replied Diego. "If it would be no imposition on your plans, I’d like to show you around, have you meet some of our neighbors, and help you get to know the people here. I think you will find a few more veterans here, but from before your time, or mine. I’ll bet they’ll love reminiscing about the ‘good old days’."**

**"Now that sounds just grand," smiled O’Leary and dropped a hint. "There’s nothing that I love more than a fiesta. I’m quite interested in hearing about this area as well – it’s history and goings-on - not just from Enrique’s point of view, you understand. He implies that even here, there is a bit of lawlessness. It’s why I wore the sword. But I notice that you go about unarmed."**

**"Most of the lawlessness seems to be perpetrated by the comandante, if you don’t mind my saying so," said Diego. "Has he left you with the impression that lawlessness is everywhere?"**

**"It seems that he thinks that an outlaw named ‘Zorro’ is a major concern," responded the colonel. "Is he, perhaps, a highwayman?"** ****

**"Oh, no, he’s not a highwayman. Most people here don’t consider El Zorro a problem. He is seen as a man who rights a wrong."**

**"The wrongs committed by Capitán Monastario?" asked the Irishman.**

**"Yes," said Diego. "I remember what you said about Monastario, what he was like in Spain during the war. It seems like we’re talking about two different people."**

**"Not entirely," remarked O’Leary. "He’s still the bold one, a man of action. However, I would like to see more of what is going on before drawing any final conclusions. I hope you will indulge me. It’s the past fond memories that are still alive and getting in the way. It’s the present that has to be borne out. By the by, I hope you don’t mind my changing the subject, but I was wondering if you’d mind my riding out to see you tomorrow morning. Padre Felipe mentioned that you have a fine library and I have a fondness for books. I even managed to bring some favorites with me in my old trunk. Perhaps we could make an exchange."**

**"It’s always a pleasure to entertain a man who appreciates the arts, Paddy. Nothing would please me more," smiled Diego. "But before it gets much too late, I’d like to show you a few more views. The we could head back into town for a drink before dinner."**

**"I see you’re a man after my own heart," Patrick O’Leary said cheerfully. "And there’s nothing dearer to my heart than a man who appreciates a good vintage."**

**The two men rode down the hill, through a few more meadows and onto another hilltop before pausing again.**

**"Tell me, is Ireland anything like California? Do you ever long to go back there?" asked Diego.**

**The colonel brought his horse to a halt and was quiet for several minutes, looking off into the distance, over the green oaks, dry valleys and hills which were beginning to reflect the golden sunset. He shook his head. "Ireland’s a green paradise compared to California, Diego. It rains most summer evenings. The forests are dense and stretch for as far as the eye can see. The mountains are a friendly refuge. It’s a land where there are no serpents, at least of the reptile variety." O’Leary paused a moment. "Ireland - there it’s a man’s _dhuchas_ , as we say. It’s a word in Irish that means one’s native place, a shared tradition, our collective soul, a kindred affection, so to speak. Ah, and to go home again _– filleadh ar do dhuchas_ – to return home to where one belongs, like the prodigal’s welcome after many years away. It’s the exile’s dream. But, it’s only a dream. To go back means to the war that never ends until our land is free."**

**"Are you tired of war, Paddy, or of the military?" asked Diego quietly, as the late afternoon wind began to rise up over the hills and sway the dry grasses.**

**"I don’t know, Diego. I am tired of it in as much as there’s a monotony to death and more death. But it’s a familiar scratch, as well. It doesn’t require much thinking and it becomes a familiar routine. You become part of a closed circle that you think is the best, the only one worth considering. It has a camaraderie, as I said, but a closed one. It’s a circle that excludes the voices and laughter of children, the songs and sighs of women in love and at their daily chores. It excludes art and beauty and remembrances of the old gods." O’Leary smiled. "So, you see, I’m split down the middle, tugged by two worlds and I haven’t yet made up my mind which one to be a part of."**

**Diego gave a heartfelt sigh of sympathy. "I can’t say I envy your position, Paddy, but I hope that we can persuade you that California is a place where you can make a new and good life, even start over again."**

**"Sometimes I dream of that, like a thirsty man drinking from a long-forgotten well, or as we say, _caithfear pilleadh aris ar na foinsi_ – we will have to return to the springs." The colonel nodded towards the pueblo. "Speaking of the springs, there’s a little tavern down there beckoning to us."**

**Diego smiled. "I believe you said you had a paid dinner awaiting you. Let’s go for that early drink."**

**With that the two men turned their horses heads back down the hill and headed toward the dirt road leading into the pueblo of Los Angeles. For once, the colonel was silent most of the way. Diego found his own thoughts preoccupied with what the Irishman had told him and he felt more grateful than ever that he had the better fortune of the two of them - to have a safe home and his father to return to in California.**  
  
---  
  
**[Chapter Eleven](http://bookscape.net/authors/colonel11.htm)**  
---  
**[Chapter One](http://bookscape.net/authors/colonel1.htm)**  
**[Zorro Contents](http://bookscape.net/zorrocontents.htm)**  
**[Main Page](http://bookscape.net/index.htm)**


	10. The Irish Colonel

The Irish Colonel

_**The Irish Colonel**_

_**by**_

_**Eugene Craig**_  
  
---  
  
****

**DAY TWO**

**Chapter 11**

**The tavern had begun to attract its share of regular customers as the early evening approached. A group of vaqueros rode up just as Diego de la Vega and Patrick O'Leary tied up their horses in front of the tavern. The vaqueros dismounted and looked with some apprehension at the officer in the unfamiliar uniform. They hung back and allowed Diego and O'Leary to proceed them.**

**Once inside, the vaqueros found an empty table and sat down, chatting and laughing, but they still eyed the colonel warily. A few minutes later they looked up in surprise when the innkeeper approached with a few bottles of wine for them. He told them that the wine was the compliments of the Irish officer and he wished them all good health. The vaqueros smiled, rose to their feet and toasted the red-haired man who acknowledged their gesture and casually saluted them.**

**Diego was impressed by the man's flair for diplomacy. "Colonel, you really know how to make friends at the drop of a hat."**

**O'Leary smiled as he poured the wine out into the two mugs. "There's nothing that eases a tense situation better than a friendly mug of wine. It seems that the sight of a military uniform is not something very welcome in Los Angeles."**

**The young don nodded. "It's all a part of what I have been telling you. The military is seen as the iron fist of a dictator. And the dictator is Capitán Monastario."**

**The Irish colonel sighed. "How far we have come. And yet there was a time when we men in uniform were all heroes, even Enrique. Wherever we went, people bought us drinks, girls vied for our kisses, and even every stray dog seemed to be our friend. I think that is the kind of glory we savor, that we long for again, and yet the times have changed. The current political struggle in Spain plays itself out here in the colonies. Those in favor of the old system that brought them glory now struggle to maintain it by any means necessary. And those who want changes chaff under the oppressions of the upholders of the old order who maintain their rule with the iron fist. No sooner are we the heroes, then we become the oppressors."**

**Diego looked pensive. "I would like to think that we don’t have to become oppressors, Paddy."**

**O'Leary poured another drink for himself and lowered his voice considerably. "That is one reason I retired, Diego. You see, after all the battles against Bonaparte, people saw the merits of the French revolution. It was a good thing, that revolution - now they want to believe in 'Liberty, Equality, and Fraternity.' They are so sick and tired of the corruption of the king and the nobility, that they want a republic. Now that the French military threat has been vanquished, French ideas triumph instead - and ideas applied in our own way, not imposed on us by a foreign invader. But those at the top refuse to change. They even want to set the clocks back one hundred years."**

**"We are the first in our loyalty to Spain, but we support good change as well," responded Diego earnestly. "Are not the ideas of more equality, justice and the fraternity among men a good goal to fight for anywhere? Can good change not happen in our land without the violence and rule of the iron fist?"**

**"It would be nice to think so. Even in Ireland we’ve tried to achieve justice and freedom. Every time we try to bring about change peacefully, the English drown our efforts in blood. Where does that leave us? No other choice but to take up arms against our oppressors."**

**The Irishman looked off into the distance as if lost in thought a moment. Then he refocused his eyes on the young Californian. "Do you know about the Rebellion of ’98? No? Well, the men of who led the rebellion in 1798 were the finest of Ireland, most of them Protestants or Presbyterians leading the Catholics in a united front against the English occupiers. They called themselves the United Irishmen. There were great men like Wolfe Tone, Thomas Paine, the Englishman – more an ally and mentor - Edward Despard, Lord Fitzgerald, Arthur O’Connor, Robert Emmett and many others. All these men were inspired by the ideas of the French revolution. And, with a certain irony, it was the French that let them down – again and again – with promises for aid and even military intervention to help them win it."**

**O'Leary paused and continued in a disgusted tone. " And then Bonaparte proclaims himself emperor, betraying all republicans and begins to build an empire on the backs of everyone." He poured a little more wine out for both of them. "Is it no wonder, then, that you cannot bring the ideas of liberty to others at the point of a bayonet? It is a lesson that many find hard to learn."**

**"Any man has forgotten what freedom really is when he claims that he must bring it with the help of bayonets," mused Diego. "At least Monastario doesn’t try to tell us that he’s giving us anything other than his own notion of ‘justice.’**

**"Ah, Monastario, Monastario," O’Leary shook his head. "A perfect product of the system that nourished him, molded him, and later betrayed him. And he doesn’t want to see it. He wants, instead, to keep proving to himself that he is the best promoter, enforcer and defender of that system."**

**Diego saw his chance to learn more about Monastario, now that the focus of the conversation had shifted. "You keep talking about what happened to him, yet I don’t think I really understand the whole story. Could you start at the beginning, Paddy?"**

**"It all began with the French invasion, Diego," the colonel recounted. "I’ve mentioned this before. When the northern provinces of Spain were invaded and overwhelmed, many lost their lands, their homes, their wealth and position in society as a result. No invader comes in to save anyone from themselves: they only come in to loot, to plunder, pillage and to rob the native population and the national wealth. As for Monastario, his case was well-known at the time and it was a typical case in the north."**

**"I have never heard anything about this," said Diego. "And yet you say it was a well-known case."**

**"How quickly people forget," O’Leary said, taking a sip of his wine. "But like I said, what happened was typical in the northern provinces. His family was noble and proud, landholders with many tenants under their control. His father had served Spain well and retired as a captain. The oldest son was rather dissolute. When the French came, they took everything. The family refused to collaborate, like many did, and lost what they had. But the eldest son saw the French as a way to get back what was due him through inheritance and he collaborated very closely with them. They gave him bodyguards and the job of collecting taxes, expropriating grain, and forcing conscription into their new forces. He became a hated man locally, but he had local allies as well who were there for what they could get. Spaniard betrayed Spaniard."**

**O’Leary paused and looked at his drink, then looked into Diego’s eyes. "But the youngest son was indignant, patriotic and energetic. He was a young ensign straight out of the military academy in Madrid, following in his father’s honorable footsteps. When the war broke out he first served in the Army and later in the various partisan bands that sprang up after the regular army was defeated. There were many rebel bands. The one I served in, with Espoz y Mina, was perhaps the best and most humane. But most were not. War turned men into savages. Men who never harmed others turned to torture, killing, and worse."**

**"Is that what made Monastario cruel?" asked Diego. "Serving with men who were more bandits than soldiers?"**

**"Not exactly, although it later contributed to it. You see, the French brought with them an incredible savagery - with new military tactics, with advanced weapons, and with a desire to crush anyone who opposed them. ‘Kill them all’ was their slogan. You either had to be on their side or you were an enemy. There was no middle road for anyone. They showed no mercy to men, women or children who were then bombarded - their homes, villages, schools, churches and businesses sacked, looted and destroyed. But the French were also efficient and effective. Often their tactics worked and they got quick results – pacification and collaboration. Once you have seen this, and the senseless cruelty of it – cruelty for the sake of cruelty – then you understood why so many Spaniards desired revenge."**

**The colonel paused and took a sip of wine. Then he continued. "The biblical ‘eye for an eye’ was foremost in the minds of the patriots and they exacted a revenge on the French and their collaborators in kind. Monastario not only saw what had happened to his own home and its community of servants and ordinary people, he saw what betrayal could do as well. People he had known as a child and trusted were the ones that betrayed his family the most. Worse, his own brother betrayed his family. Servants informed on their masters. Tradesmen and peasants alike turned each other in for French monetary rewards or for a scrap of food. Those better off or well educated did the same. But despite all this, his hopes were still high. For victory would bring its own rewards and salvation from past sins – and perhaps redemption and resurrection as well. Ah, to be so idealistic. We were all idealistic in those days."**

**"You speak of salvation, redemption and resurrection for a man. Do you …?" Diego was distracted by the approach of a soldier.**

**Colonel O’Leary’s eyes also followed the soldier’s steps to his own table. He looked up at the private.**

**"Your pardon, Señor Colonel," the soldier said, saluting. "Capitán Monastario sends his compliments and regrets. He had some unexpected business to attend to but would like to invite you to join him briefly at the cuartel before dinner."**

**"Tell the comandante that I will join him shortly," responded O’Leary. "I shall finish my drink with my guest first."**

**The soldier nodded, saluted and left. O’Leary took another sip of his wine. He noticed the mug was almost empty.**

**"You were saying, Diego?" he looked back at the young man at the table who seemed lost in thought.**

**Diego refocused his attention on the man in the green uniform. "Yes. Did you mean salvation and resurrection of a man after the war was over?" he asked quietly.**

**"Yes, when the war was over," O’Leary responded. "You may think it odd to speak in such ecclesiastical terms, but this was, in a sense, a crusade and a way to redeem the sins of war, and of the family." O’Leary drained the last of his mug. "And I’ll leave it at this for now."**

**"It gives me much to think about," mused Diego. "And yet for me, and many others, Monastario has crossed the line between what is right and wrong too many times."**

**"Just one thing, Diego," said O’Leary, standing and taking his leave. "The belief in the possibility for salvation and redemption has given many men hope. But take that hope away, and what do you have left?"**

**The Irishman gazed deeply into Diego’s brown eyes and Diego almost felt that the look was painful. He believed that, in some way, the Irishman was also speaking of himself, and not just of Monastario. He retreated from this thought for the present and stood up to shake the man’s hand. "Until later, Paddy." The Irishman smiled and departed.**  
  
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**[Chapter Twelve](http://bookscape.net/authors/colonel12.htm)**  
---  
**[Chapter One](http://bookscape.net/authors/colonel1.htm)**  
**[Zorro Contents](http://bookscape.net/zorrocontents.htm)**  
**[Main Page](http://bookscape.net/index.htm)**


	11. The Irish Colonel

The Irish Colonel

_**The Irish Colonel**_

_**by**_

_**Eugene Craig**_  
  
---  
  
****

**DAY TWO**

**Chapter 12**

**Capitán Enrique Monastario stood before the mirror and carefully brushed his hair. He put the brush down and picked up a comb and gave the same attention to his moustache and goatee. He looked himself over carefully and felt satisfied by his appearance. His uniform was clean, his medals shined, and his boots were polished. Only O’Leary, the Irishman, kept himself in such immaculate condition and Monastario welcomed such attention to detail. What a relief to have a man like him around after the slovenliness of Sergeant García, a man who seemed to have a penchant for and revel in untidiness.**

**There was a knock at the door of the comandante’s office and Monastario stepped out into his office from his private quarters. "Enter," he responded.**

**The door opened and Private López saluted him. "I delivered your message to Colonel O’Leary as ordered, Comandante."**

**"Very well, Private." The officer paused. "By the way, did you notice if the colonel was engaged with anyone?"**

**The soldier still stood at attention. "Colonel O’Leary was seated at a table with Don Diego de la Vega, mi Capitán. They were sharing a bottle of wine."**

**"Anything else, Private?" asked Monastario.** ****

**López thought a moment. "I heard only a little of their conversation as I approached their table, mi capitán. They were discussing religious issues."**

**"Religious issues? How interesting," commented the captain. "What kind of issues?"**

**"Something about salvation and resurrection, Señor Comandante," the man replied. "I did not hear anything else."**

**"Very well, you may go," Monastario returned the man’s salute and turned back towards his desk. He thought that Patrick O’Leary was having one too many conversations with De la Vega and he could only imagine what kind of slander the spoiled ex-student was telling about him and his command. On the other hand, perhaps the colonel was milking young Vega for all he was worth on the issue of el Zorro. He doubted that the man who slept late into the day and spent his time idling his life away had much to contribute in terms of information, but O’Leary was famed for his meticulous intelligence work and Monastario knew he would be thorough.**

**There was another knock at the door of the office and Enrique Monastario knew who had arrived. He went to open the door himself. Outside stood Patrick O’Leary dressed as if he was going on parade. The comandante smiled and welcomed him in. "Welcome, Colonel. You look prepared for a very special event."**

**The Irishman nodded. "I like to look my best for my last night on Earth," he said jovially.**

**Monastario grimaced to himself, but smiled nonetheless. "Your funeral, then?"**

**"My death, funeral, and wake, all of which I will attend to me self," O’Leary said proudly, as if it were a major accomplishment.**

**Monastario was amused. "And you will, undoubtedly, see to your own salvation and resurrection on the morrow," he responded, cleverly using the theme to gauge the colonel’s reaction.**

**But O’Leary gave no indication that he noticed the subtlety of the officer’s message. "The new phoenix shall arise from the ashes of the old and your wish for my transformation shall come to pass."**

**"I could not ask for more." Monastario bowed ceremoniously. "But before we go to the inn for dinner, I would like to share some information with you. You may find it of interest."** ****

**"And in what regard is it?"**

**"A personal matter - of yours, Patrick," responded the captain. "Veterans of the War for Independence."**

**O'Leary tensed up. "What have you learned?"**

**Monastario smiled and gestured toward a chair. "Have a seat, Patrick."**

**O'Leary corrected him. "It's 'Paddy,' Enrique."**

**"Alright," responded Monastario and stood behind the leather chair a moment as O'Leary sat down before walking back towards his desk. He turned suddenly and rather dramatically in front the Irishman. "Paddy, I had a conversation with the Alcalde this afternoon. Nothing very serious, just some routine business matters between the civilian and military administrations. In the course of our conversation, I just happened to mention your service with Espoz y Mina. The Alcalde became interested. He told me that there are a few veterans of those battles right here in Los Angeles. Naturally, I did not mention anything that you told me, but I do have their names."**

**"Naturally. What else did you find out?"**

**"That both of them are rich rancheros. People with a past do not often speak of it and sometimes they will pay others to keep their silence."**

**If Monastario was expecting a smile from O’Leary, he was gravely mistaken. Instead, the Irishman’s face clouded with anger. "I think you misunderstand me, Enrique," O'Leary said harshly. "I have no interest in having men pay me for keeping silent for any past treason that they may have committed. I am only interested in retribution. Money has never and will never have anything to do with this case."**

**O'Leary's face grew redder with each passing moment. "Listen to me and listen well. Were I bare bones and dying of the plague, I would still exact the only 'payment due.’ Death is the only reward for treason and dishonor. That man dishonored himself, his friends, the regiment and Spain by his actions. And because he was of my blood, he dishonored more than just himself. He dishonored me, and he dishonored every decent Irishman who had stood by him, who died that day and every day afterwards because of his treason!" The Irishman took a deep breath. "In conclusion, a bloody pox on your money."**

**Monastario's blue eyes burned into O'Leary. In his own way, he felt closer to the man than he ever had before. "May I ask you a question, Paddy? If it's too personal, then don't answer it."**

**"Go ahead."**

**"Of what relation was this man to you?"**

**The Irishman was impressed. "You're sharp, Enrique, mighty sharp. But then, you always were."**

**"Am I to presume that we share a commonality in this regard, then?"**

**"We do indeed, old friend."**

**Monastario wagged a finger at him. "You do understand, of course, that I do not guarantee that either of these men is the one you are looking for. All this means is that they are two out of thousands who served in the same theatre of operations."**

**"I understand." O'Leary had now calmed down. "Funny. It's like the good old days when we speak like this, isn't it? But this old wound - after all these years, the wound festers, but does not heal."**

**"But, if it turns out that either one of them is the man you are looking for, then I still expect you to fulfill your side of the bargain on my local problem, once you have settled your own affairs, that is," the capitán insisted.**

**"I believe we have an agreement to that end, Enrique." O'Leary stood up.**

**"Yes, we do," Monastario affirmed as he picked up his hat and gauntlets. "And I would like to offer you some drinks tonight in addition to dinner. There are a few more details to cover. But I would not want to keep you here too late. The dancer makes her debut in a few minutes and we had a bet over her appearance." He smiled. "You will find that I will win this bet."**

**"Oh, I'm not so sure about that," O'Leary rejoined as they left the room. "Just remember that your description of her is open to debate - in all its details."**

**************************************************************************** ****

**The innkeeper, Señor Pacheco, was looking very anxious. He had kept a table reserved for the comandante of Los Angeles and a guest, but neither of them had yet appeared. His customers were clamoring for a free table and, as usual, there were more clients than tables. But the innkeeper knew better than to not hold the table. The capitán would never forgive him for giving up the place, even if he never showed up. And keeping in the comandante's good graces was a practical matter of survival. So, it was to his great relief when Capitán Enrique Monastario came through the door followed by none other than Colonel O'Leary. The innkeeper was particularly gratified to see the Irishman, a man who not only paid in cash, but who made any incident seem trivial compared to the amount of business he gave the bar. Besides, the new dancer, Señorita Rosita Flores, might profit handsomely from his generosity.**

**The innkeeper hurried over to see to the needs of the two officers in person, waving to a barmaid to join him. He had the dancer delay her number till after the two men ate, for nothing makes a man happier than a full stomach and a mug or two of wine to top it off.**

**The two guitar players came out and sat in chairs. They warmed up the audience with a few variations. As they finished their last duet, O’Leary finished the last of his meal and elbowed Monastario. "Ah, now’s the time to up the stakes of our bet, Enrique. You have one last chance to take back what you said about Señorita Flores before she appears."**

**Enrique Monastario smiled. "I prefer to keep our bet, how should I put it, ‘philosophical.’"**

**"Surely you can afford to lose a few pesos on this one," O’Leary teased. "Or aren’t you the sporting type?"**

**"I do not wish to take advantage of you, knowing your present economic circumstances," rejoined the officer.**

**"Oh, but I intend to improve upon that," the Irishman insisted. "But you’re making it hard for me to do so because you are so stingy. I’ve never known a Spaniard not to love to make a bet over a woman."**

**"It all depends on the woman, " Monastario responded thoughtfully. "Ah, here she is. What did I tell you?"**

**Señorita Rosita Flores stepped out into the room and there was a hush that came over the crowd as the guitars began to play. She was dressed in cranberry red with pink skirts underneath that she flashed as she danced, exposing slim ankles and legs. She was, as Monastario described, small and dark – a petit Moor. The red dress accented her dark features. The hair was long and black, the eyes two dark orbs, but expressive and flashing in the bright, candle-lit room. As she whirled and her eyes passed over the crowd, she spotted the two officers who sat near the great fireplace. Her steps took her across the floor in their direction. As she approached their table, snapping the castanets, the two men saluted her with smiles and their mugs. She whirled, the intertwined red and gold necklaces flashed, and her red arm bracelets rose and fell with her arm movements. She swayed her hips provocatively in front of them and gazed at them with long looks and a wink before she moved on.**

**Monastario smiled broadly at her flirting and nodded in approval. O’Leary sat back in his chair and watched her as if contemplating her inner being. He looked highly amused. He turned to his table companion. "You failed to mention her ankles and legs, Monastario, so you’ve already lost part of your bet."**

**"You cannot fault that which is not written into a contract, O’Leary," he remarked off-handedly. "Find another misrepresentation."**

**"You also said she won’t look you in the eye. She has no problem making eye-contact either, a rather bold wench at that."**

**The two men continued in a similar vein until the dancing came to an end and the dancer made a dramatic finale. The audience cheered politely and tossed her coins for her efforts. O’Leary turned back to the table and poured out some more wine. "Not bad. I’ll concede only that she needs a bit more polish, but she doesn’t do too badly for such a young performer. She’ll need many more performances to make it worth the trip here, however. How long will she stay or did she say?"**

**Monastario gave a sly look of his own. "That depends on whom she pleases. However, I’m generally amendable to requests for extending the length of a tour. She has potential at this point, but little else."**

**"What do you know about her?" O’Leary probed.**

**"She performed in Lima, Ciudad México and Guadalajara. The two men traveling with her are cousins. The older woman is her grandmother, a widow, and her guardian and protector." The capitán paused. "They are a little desperate for work and do not mind making the effort to please the authorities with an expression of their gratitude."**

**"You seem to have an angle for pulling in cash every way you can, Enrique," remarked the Irishman. "Are you sure that you are a pure-blooded Spaniard? You don’t have some Gypsy blood lurking in there, do you? Tell me, since your intelligence is so good, why the devil do you need me? I take it that it’s not out of pity."**

**"You don’t merit pity, O’Leary," remarked Monastario seriously. "It would be a crime not to utilize your experience and abilities when and where they are needed or required. You do not take yourself seriously enough."**

**"We Irish have a saying about that," Paddy answered as he poured himself some more wine. "‘A man that can’t laugh at himself should be given a mirror.’"**

**Monastario did not reply. He watched O’Leary drink the wine, then turned his attention to the clients in the bar. He made a mental note of who was who, who drank with whom, how long they stayed and what condition they were in when they left. Such information amused him as well as being useful for future purposes.**

**The red-haired man observed the fact and commented, "You haven’t answered my question, Capitán. You are so good at finding out so much, why do you need my help with this highwayman?"**

**"Zorro is not an ordinary criminal, Colonel. He mocks law and order, ridicules lawful authority, and undermines the security of the state. These offenses rank under the title ‘treason.’ He is unusually lucky and as clever as the devil himself. But this is not why I need your help. The problem is that there are misguided people here who regard this bandit as a ‘hero’ and they protect him."**

**"And why do you think they do that, Enrique?"**

**"There are trouble makers here, Colonel. They are rebellious and full of spite. All the years before my command, they practically had free rein to do as they pleased and this brought in all sorts of lawless ideas and behavior. Some of them are practically republicans – just like the French, just like the rebels who are proclaiming ‘independence’ from Spain in the southern colonies. They defy authority, although they cannot live without it. Really, it makes no sense. People cannot be civilized without the weight of authority, law and order, and discipline - which can only be provided by the forces of the Crown which represent His Majesty. It is my duty, as well as my imperative, to put an end to this for the sake of stability, for King and for Country. One of the most effective methods is to behead the leaders of rebellion. I do not hesitate to do so."**

**"You know, Enrique, I myself might fit your description of such a rebel," the Irishman pointed out. "After all, I raised myself against the lawful authority of the English king and English rule in Ireland; I took up arms against the state; I propounded rebellious ideas that were called ‘banditry,' 'rebellion,’ or ‘treason.’"**

**"You know, Paddy, you have quite a propensity for playing the Devil’s Advocate," remarked Monastario in an amused manner. "How could you possibly compare yourself to such rabble? Your own country is under foreign occupation, just like Spain was from France. You understand this very well. That is why you fought with us like a brother. That is why Spain has supported your cause for centuries."**

**"If California is just an extension of Spain, then why the iron fist, Enrique? The same ideas that these rebels propound here are no different from those being debated in Spain right now. Yet, the government there sees no need to ‘behead the leaders of the rebellion.’**

**"You’ve drunk too much, Paddy. You should have seen the banditry here before I came – cattle rustling on a level that threatened the economy of Los Angeles; the establishment of ‘town meetings’ that debated the laws of the King rather than enforced them; and worse than that, the introduction of ideas undermining the monarchy and all that our civilization stands for. These rebels have even suggested that the savages here have the same ‘rights’ as whites. You should have seen their blood-drenched temples in México where they cut out the hearts of men in sacrifice to their gods. And what have they ever achieved in terms of civilization?"**

**Monastario’s voice became full of disgust. "They live worse than the barbarians of old – no books, no writing, no art, no music, no arts of warfare, and they’ve done nothing with the land they occupy. As to our religion that we gave them – why it’s no more than a thin veneer that they use to trick us. In México itself they merely adapt our saints’ names to their old heathen gods and pretend to be Christians. Would you ever trust such creatures?" Monastario became quite impassioned.**

**"But don’t you think they are still men, just as we are?" asked O’Leary quietly.**

**"Bah!" replied the young officer. "They may look human, but they’re not. We Europeans are the forces of civilization and it is our destiny to be the masters of the world. These chattels will never be anything but a race of slaves. To think otherwise is to be deluded."**

**"How about the little ‘Moorish’ girl, then? Does she not have beauty, talent, and charm?" asked the Irishman. "Yet she could be called a half-breed. Where does our humanity begin and where does it end? How do we determine who will be treated with generosity and kindness, and who will be whipped?"**

**"I see you have been having many conversations with De la Vega," remarked the capitán. "We should not become confused by the arguments of pseudo philosophers and idlers who question the natural order of things. Of course, the girl is human. Not only does she have Spanish blood, but her ancestors came from the Arabs who achieved great things despite the falseness of their religion. They’re different, but admirable in their prowess as warriors and as the builders of great empires. I don’t need to tell you this, Colonel. Those who embrace civilization and who wish to be uplifted from the mud by us are those treated with generosity and kindness; those who choose to oppose us are the ones given the whip. It’s as simple as that."**

**"Ah, my very arguments to De la Vega," lied the colonel, wishing to end the conversation.**

**"Good!" replied Monastario with a smile. He waved over the innkeeper. "Another bottle, Paddy?"**

**The Irishman looked very pleased. "There’s always room for more." He grabbed the innkeeper by the arm as the man began to walk away from the table and whispered in his ear. The innkeeper nodded and hurried off.**

**Monastario raised an eyebrow, but the Irishman just smiled. "A little surprise for us."**

**A few minutes later, Señorita Rosita Flores approached their table. She had not yet changed her dress and it was obvious that she had just had a little supper in the back.**

**"Colonel O’Leary?" she asked while nodding at the capitán.**

**Both men stood up and bowed. "Thank you kindly for joining us here at the table," the Colonel said and pulled out a chair for her. She sat down daintily and smiled demurely. "Would you care for a glass of wine or a cup of tea?"**

**"Oh, a small glass of wine would be nice, Señor," she answered in a soft voice and looked up as the innkeeper arrived with a glass for her.**

**O’Leary filled her glass half way, then poured more in his and Monastario’s mugs. He smiled at her and she smiled back.**

**"And what kind of toast do you have for such a lovely señorita?" asked Monastario gallantly.**

**"Perhaps not a toast, but a blessing," replied O’Leary. All three raised their mugs as he intoned:**

**"Three things are of God**

**And these three are what Mary told to her Son**

**For she had heard them in heaven:**

**The merciful word**

**The singing word**

**And the good word.**

**May the power of these three holy things**

**Be on all men and women of Erin – and Spain –**

**For evermore."**

**Señorita Rosita Flores sipped the wine. "Thank you, Colonel O’Leary. I hear many toasts, but no one has ever given me a blessing. That’s very special."**

**O’Leary beamed. "It takes a special lady to bring out the best in me," he replied. "I only wished to express appreciation of your performance here tonight. It takes hard work and dedication to travel so far in the world. The reward at the end of the rainbow is knowing that there is always someone who appreciates your efforts."**

**The young lady looked over at Enrique Monastario who was watching her closely. "It is also especially nice to find someone in charge, like Capitán Monastario, who has made generous arrangements for our stay here at the inn. He has been of great help in seeing that we also get invited to several local fiestas during the next two weeks."**

**Monastario smiled benevolently. He liked to be thought of as generous by others. He was nonplussed when O’Leary pulled a gold coin from a little pocket and gave it to her, saying, "I hope that in Los Angeles you will find good character and generosity. But, in case you don’t, take this and keep it for a rainy day when you can use it to be generous to the ones who love you best."**

**Rosita gazed at the coin in awe, turning it over. "Oh, Señor Colonel, you are so generous, too. However can I thank you? I will remember you in my prayers for a very long time."**

**Enrique Monastario felt upstaged at that point and became very annoyed. But he respected how the Irishman thought out his strategies like a chess grandmaster – many moves in advance. But he would not leave it at that. "The Colonel is known for his generosity to the ladies," he remarked, "and I salute him. Let me assure you that your stay here will be rewarded with both generosity and good fortune."**

**Rosita understood the implications of this statement well. "Nothing could make me happier, Señor Comandante," she gushed. "You are like a dream come true." She sighed in contentment, then added, "Oh, I hope you will excuse me now. My grandmother asked me to read to her tonight. It helps her go to sleep."**

**Both men stood and bowed as she curtsied and left, but O’Leary caught her eye and winked. She smiled and glided away. "Nice girl," he said as he sat down.**  
  
---  
  
**[Chapter Thirteen](http://bookscape.net/authors/colonel13.htm)**  
---  
**[Chapter One](http://bookscape.net/authors/colonel1.htm)**  
**[Zorro Contents](http://bookscape.net/zorrocontents.htm)**  
**[Main Page](http://bookscape.net/index.htm)**


	12. The Irish Colonel

The Irish Colonel

_**The Irish Colonel**_

_**by**_

_**Eugene Craig**_  
  
---  
  
**DAY TWO**

**Chapter 13**

**"Why did you come to the Américas, Enrique? It would seem that the motherland needs you there – to help put an end to the republican menace to the monarchy, that is," the Irishman asked.**

**"I’ll tell you frankly, Paddy. I came here for the same reasons you did: to find a new world in which to prosper. There are many opportunities in the colonies."**

**"True enough. But I’ve always wondered that, with all your talent and experience, with all your loyalty and zeal, why you aren’t a colonel yet? Someone must have resented your successes."**

**Monastario’s eyes narrowed. He then gave a hard smile. "You once remarked that I caught on to situations rather quickly, Colonel. The same is true with you. Yes, you are right. I served the king loyally and long, but when the honors came and the promotions were offered, the name Monastario stuck in their throats. There are always those who are jealous of the best, and I was."**

**"Part of that was your brother’s doing, was it not?"**

**"Yes, the swine. He betrayed the motherland and ended up with our estates. And I, who served Spain the best, was treated like a bastard son." Monastario became moody a moment. "And then, there were those who were jealous of me and had influence. But there also were those who noted the injustice and told me, ‘Monastario, it’s all about politics. It’s not you and it’s not your doing.’" The blue eyes blazed and his voice took on a strident tone. "Two of my commanding officers, Colonel Molina and Lieutenant-**

**General Salazar, were at least honest. They told me that I was wasting my time in Spain and there were new worlds, the colonies, to go to where no one ever heard of or cared about our war. There a man would be judged anew and could make a new reputation – and be honored for it; and where there was a fortune to be made." The capitán paused. "That is why I told you that our good fortune here could more than make up for our lost inheritances. And it will!"**

**"So your appointment as comandante here was a reward at last?"**

**"It is a sword that cuts two ways, Paddy. True, I am comandante of Los Angeles, but it is a remote outpost of the Empire, a miserable mud hole."**

**"But it is one of the largest pueblos in all of California, Enrique, and with much potential. I think you are not looking at the good side of things as much as you should. It is an opportunity – in more ways than one."**

**"Perhaps," replied the blue-eyed captain. "There are some good opportunities here, it is true. I have learned one thing after all this ingratitude and that is this: it doesn’t matter how hard you work, how much you sacrifice, or how loyal you are. What matters is what you are and who you are." He leaned toward the colonel and said fervently, "It is my intention to become the most powerful force in California. I will achieve this with an unbeatable triad: one – military power; two – economic power; and three – social power. I have already achieved two out of my three goals and my grasp of the third is just on the horizon. When that day arrives, Monastario will no longer be a forgotten son, but a force to be reckoned with!"**

**"Let us then drink to the day when justice is done," proposed O’Leary. "For in this world there is a place for each according to his merits and the honors that come forthwith. May each of us find his true destiny and the happiness that this brings." Both men clicked their mugs and drank.**

**Monastario contemplated the other man a moment. "You know, O’Leary, the kind of justice that matters is the justice that we make happen. Without strong, resolute men, the world would be lost and our lot would be much worse than it is."**

**"There’s much truth in that," mused O’Leary. "And still, there are men who try to see that those who deserve to be rewarded in some way or another, get a reward. You never did say what happened between Spain and California. Tell me, did you serve long in México before being appointed comandante?"** ****

**"I was not in México, Paddy. I went from Spain to fight the traitors who have declared themselves against Spain in the Vice-Royalty of Peru and Venezuela. Knowing my experience with the partisans in Spain, I was later sent as part of the royalist guerillas outside of Caracas. I served in many campaigns against the rebels."**

**"When was that?"**

**"From 1816 through 1818. It was after the rebels declared New Grenada, Chile and Columbia ‘independent’ and followed the likes of scoundrels such as Generals Zaraza, Bolívar, Sucre, San Martín, and others. We had running battles with them. Can you imagine armies of tens of thousands facing each other, and all Spaniards? It was civil war – we Loyalists against the rebels."**

**Monastario paused a moment and added a little more wine to his cup. "And the English - I now understand why you Irish loathe them so much. What they did not do to supply the traitors in Venezuela and New Granada where there are mountains of gold and silver! The English think they will supply their industry with the riches of Spanish América and so give tens of thousands of rifles, munitions and _reales_ to supply rebellion. The same is happening in the provinces of Panama and Nicaragua which many thought would be turned over to direct English administration."**

**"And yet the English helped us against Bonaparte."** ****

**"They are opportunists, Paddy. One day, they are on our side, claiming that they are helping us fight for maintaining monarchy and freedom, and the next day, they are stealing us blind."**

**"Actually, they are far worse than that, Enrique. But how is it that you came to Los Angeles?"**

**"Let me preface the answer by saying this: I served with great Spanish generals - from Peru to Venezuela. One lesson I learned was how fickle and treacherous Spaniards in the New World are. How could Spaniards, given everything by Spain, turn their back on the motherland? Everywhere we found treason - men, women, and children threw rocks at us, tried to poison our wine, killed our troops. And we struck back, giving them a taste of what it is to betray Spain. We showed them no mercy just as they did us. Every trick, strategy, and policy learned in Spain against Bonaparte we used against them."**

**Monastario’s eyes grew bright as memories flooded over him. A dozen scenes flashed in his mind’s eye. Then, he gazed at the colonel again, his face taking on a new _expression. There was contempt in his voice when he spoke. "Yet, as soon as the rebels obtained victory, they fell out among themselves, battling over the spoils, proving once again that they need the motherland more than ever. Having said this, I conclude: my record was a success in these provinces, despite the failure of our armies. The failure of our armies was ultimately caused by a lack of political will. Knowing that California desires to keep its loyalty to Spain, and understanding the necessity of defeating the forces of rebellion, I was sent here to ensure that the traitors shall not seduce Californians loyal to Spain. Should rebellion raise its ugly head, I am the man to deal with it, just as I did in Venezuela and Peru."**

**"Then, you have finally been rewarded by some who understand your loyalty to Spain," commented O’Leary. "I thought that you had served in México due to your familiarity with the natives."**

**"Ah, that. I did pass through México and stayed at some very fine haciendas on the way here. There are some great Spaniards there – loyal to Spain. Even you would have been impressed by the graciousness of their homes, the size of their land holdings – some of them hundreds of thousands, even millions of hectares," Monastario said with some awe. "They told me how they had to battle the Indian villages over property and water rights, labor issues, and taxes. But more importantly, they showed me how they hewed a fortune out of the land, took the savages and put them to good use, and ruled the land with discipline, with a firm hand, and with a vision of a prosperous future."**

**"And so, the war moves from one front to another," commented O’Leary. "How fortunate for Spain that she has been able to utilize a man with your abilities in the field of war."**

**"There are those who criticize me," Monastario said thoughtfully, "for they are ruled by passion rather than logic. In the future, they will realize that what I have done is for their own good, and for the good of California and Spain. I do not mind being hated by these people because I know that what I am doing is right. Ultimately, that is all that matters."**

**"Of course it pays to have one’s local allies lined up behind you," the Irishman said off-handedly. "Then there are one’s agents who will reliably inform you about the goings-on of suspects and traitors."**

**Monastario frowned. "I rely upon the troops in the cuartel. There are few here in Los Angeles who are politically reliable."**

**"Then I will also find out who is, while I’m at it," said O’Leary. "Listen, Enrique, it does not pay to limit your forces short or long-term. Everyone needs allies, and the more, the better. At least reward those who will not act, and isolate and neutralize those who will. This should be basic."**

**"I’ve already seen to this, Paddy. No one here can unite against the forces of the Crown. That is why this Zorro fellow strikes out at the cuartel by himself. He is a lone actor. The odds against his continued success are very limited."** ****

**"But there is one thing you may be overlooking, old friend: as long as ** _he_** has allies – those who shelter him, help him in secret, cover for him – then his odds increase – and, thus, he is harder to defeat."** ****

**Monastario nodded. "We discussed this before. That is why I need you to find out who these rebels are for sure. I have my suspicions but, so far, cannot prove them, especially since they involve some important economic interests in the region. But I do have a plan that may force their hand. The first part of the plan is to lay a trap for Zorro and then, you will take it from there. But more about this later."** ****

**"Another bottle, Enrique?" asked the Irishman.**

**The officer pulled a gold watch out of his jacket pocket and looked at it. "It’s getting late and I must see to the night detail."**

**O’Leary gazed at the watch with great interest. "That’s a very fine piece of craftsmanship. May I look at it?"**

**Monastario unhooked the watch from the gold chain and passed it over. O’Leary turned it over with great interest. The workmanship was superb and it was a timepiece of great beauty, an heirloom. He opened it up and read the engraved inscription. ‘For Enrique - Honor and loyalty is our duty.’ It was signed ‘Father Rodrigo Monastario, 18 March 1816.’ He read it out loud solemnly, and then closed the case. "Was this your inheritance?"**

**Monastario put the watch back on the chain and returned it to his pocket. "It was a creed he always lived by and I am the only son to follow it faithfully. It is only right that this was given to me. As for the rest, it no longer matters." He stood up. "Until tomorrow, Colonel." He gave a polite salute, bowed and departed.**

**Patrick O’Leary shook his head. It was, he mused, almost a father’s way of apologizing to his most faithful boy. _Perhaps the old man didn’t have the strength to disinherit his eldest son in favor of the youngest. And you thought that you had been delivered a few rotten blows in life_ , he thought _. Well, Enrique has set out on his own road and it is a rocky one, strewn with obstacles and dangers, many of them of his own making. I wonder if he will ever possess the wisdom to know how to evade or overcome them so that he finally fulfills his dream of proving his worth to his family – and to himself_. The colonel waved a barmaid over and ordered another bottle.** ****

**************************************************************************

**It was late that night when Colonel O’Leary made his way up the stairs towards his room. He had learned a great deal about Monastario and about how Los Angeles was run and why. This was almost like the opening chapters of a historical novel, he told himself, with all the players in place and the drama about to be spun out. But this was real and it almost seemed like a repeat performance from Peru, Columbia, Venezuela, or Spain. Are the lessons of history never learned? Or understood? he wondered.**

**He opened his room door. _I’m not as drunk as I hoped I would be_ , he thought. He placed his hat on the chest of drawers and unbuckled his saber, hanging it from a wall hook. He undid his belt and buckle, then unbuttoned his jacket and folded it carefully, placing it on top of his wooden trunk. He groped for the pitcher of water and poured a generous amount into the basin. He washed his hands and freshened up by splashing water in his face and neck. He took a towel and dried the water from his moustache and rubbed it vigorously. _Ah, that feels good_. He looked around. _Maybe I’ll just stretch out on the bed and think some more about all this_. He sat down on the bed and was just about ready to bunch up the pillows when he heard a faint tapping at his door.**

_**Who the devil would come paying a visit at this hour?**_ **he thought. The Irishman got up and went to the door. "Who’s there?" he asked quietly. There was no answer. He frowned. Then, a very light tapping resumed. He opened the door cautiously, peering out and then smiled, "Hello."**

**Rosita Flores stood outside his room door in a green gown and smiled up into his eyes.**

**"Colonel O’Leary?" she asked in a whisper.**

**He opened the door and gestured her in. She tiptoed into the room as he closed the door and looked about her. Then she turned and met his smile with one of her own.** ****

**"What a lovely green gown you have on," he told her and looked her over in appreciation. Her hair was loose and pulled back over her shoulders. It fell almost to her waist. A smidgen of bright red lipstick remained and her eyes were bright and intense.**

**He took her hands in his. "What can I do for you, little darlin’? he asked.**

**"Oh, Colonel," she began.**

**He interrupted her. "Just call me Paddy, dear."**

**She smiled, "Oh, Paddy, you are so generous. I had to come to thank you and to look into your eyes again. They are so beautiful. I have never seen such green eyes before."**

**"Is that the only reason you are here, Rosita?" he teased her gently.**

**"Ummm," she purred. "You are so generous to Rosita, I thought that, perhaps…."**

**"You don’t have to say anything more," he said, moving two fingers to her lips gently to stop the flow of words. "I understand."**

**She kissed his fingers before he took them away. He put his arm around her waist and led her to the bed. He lifted her up onto the mattress and sat beside her.**

**One hand smoothed the surface of the pillows while she fastened the other around his waist. "Are you very tired, Paddy?" she asked.**

**He shook his head and ran a hand through her hair, caressing it. He looked deeply into her eyes and saw her desire and loneliness. "Don’t you worry about a thing, dear. Paddy will take good care of you." He kissed her on the lips and she returned his with ardor.**

**Then she put her arms around his neck and pulled him down onto the pillows with her.**

**The candle on the dresser burned itself out and the stars began to fade in the sky before the two lovers took leave of each other. "I have to get back before Grandmother misses me," she whispered and gave him another kiss. He helped her dress and opened the door quietly. "See you tonight?"**

**"Until tonight," he whispered and smiled, closing the door.**  
  
---  
  
**[Chapter Fourteen](http://bookscape.net/authors/colonel14.htm)**  
---  
**[Chapter One](http://bookscape.net/authors/colonel1.htm)**  
**[Zorro Contents](http://bookscape.net/zorrocontents.htm)**  
**[Main Page](http://bookscape.net/index.htm)**


	13. The Irish Colonel

The Irish Colonel

_**The Irish Colonel**_

_**by**_

_**Eugene Craig**_  
  
---  
  
**DAY THREE**

**Chapter 14**

**The next day dawned bright and sunny without a cloud in the sky. The early morning air was filled with the chatter of songbirds and the bustle of townspeople enjoying a fresh breeze blowing down from the mountains and hills into the pueblo of Los Angeles. The vaqueros had been up since dawn and had already departed on their horses, leaving in a cloud of dust and dirt churned by the horses’ hooves.**

**On the second floor of the inn, Patrick O’Leary opened his eyes and thought about how rare it was that he would still be in bed at this hour. He had always been an early riser, but now and again he would alter his routine and not rise until he heard the clatter of breakfast plates in the inn below. Today would be another busy one, filled with chores and new adventures. He was especially interested in getting a horse and starting to scout the countryside, getting to know new acquaintances and finding out more about the mysterious outlaw, Zorro. He would take two of his books out to Diego de la Vega and look over Alejandro’s library. According to Father Felipe, it was reputed to be largest in all of Los Angeles and he liked to see what other men read, for it provided a window into their hearts and into their souls.** ****

**It was mid-morning by the time he strolled over to the general store and passed by the half barrels lining the outside porch. The store was quiet and he looked around for the gray-haired matron who had waited on him the day before. He noticed a movement at the curtain in the rear of the store and heard a friendly young voice exclaim, "Good day, Colonel O’Leary!"**

**A slim young boy approached him from the back of the store. He recognized the young man from the coach ride from San Pedro to Los Angeles just the day before. "Why, if it isn’t my good friend Pedro. Are you out shopping so early in the day with your mother?"** ****

**Pedro Cárdenas looked up at the red-haired man in the brown hat and smiled in return. "Oh, no, Señor Colonel. This is my father’s store and we’ve been helping him run it while he is away on business."**

**"Now is that so?" O’Leary looked around. "This is a mighty fine store. There are so many interesting things to look at." The boy smiled proudly at that. "Do you know why I’m here?"**

**"To buy something," the boy replied.**

**"That’s right. I was here yesterday looking over some clothes and today I’ve returned to buy some."**

**There was another movement from the back of the store and Señora Cárdenas emerged.**

**"Look who’s here, Mother," the boy called.**

**The woman looked up and smiled. "Isn’t that Colonel O’Leary?" she asked, coming forward.**

**The Irishman bowed. "Indeed it is, Señora Cárdenas, and how are you today?"**

**"Happy to have you as our first customer today, Señor, " she replied graciously. "Can I help you with anything?"**

**"I hope so, Señora," he replied. "I’m afraid I was overwhelmed with the choices in clothing I saw yesterday. I must have driven the other lady here to distraction. Hopefully, she’s not ill as a result."**

**Isabel Cárdenas almost laughed at that. "Oh, no, Colonel. That was my sister. She and I have been minding the store while my husband has been away on business. He returned just this morning, and so she is back to helping a neighbor sew a quilt. My husband should be here at any moment, perhaps he could help you better than I can."** ****

**"Now, that sounds just fine," he replied. "However, this morning I’m in a wee bit of a hurry and I already decided yesterday what I’d like to get. Could I just pick them up now and come back later to meet your husband? There are several items I would like to purchase in the next day or two, and it would be a good opportunity to stop by and chat a while."**

**"Of course, Señor," she replied. "My husband is an old military man himself. I’m sure you two would have much in common. Now what did you see that you liked so much?"**

**Ten minutes later, Patrick O’Leary left the store with his new purchases and headed back toward the inn. From the store door, Pedro and his mother waved a goodbye. Back inside the store, she commented about how he had not even asked for credit and had left a centavo for the boy to pay for some sweets.**

**"I like Colonel O’Leary, Mother," said Pedro, with shining eyes. "He’s very nice and he tells the best stories I ever heard."**

**"He seems to be quite a gentleman," she said, "but I think I could do without all those war stories. I’d like to hear more about his family and his plans for a new life here in Los Angeles." She turned as she heard a noise at the back of the store. "That must be your father," she said.**

**The curtain moved aside and a man with a thick brown hair and mustache peered out. He was the height of the colonel, but stocky. He wore a leather apron that covered the front of his clothing. He was frowning. "What is going on here?" he asked.**

**"Oh, Roberto, you’re back," she smiled. "We just had our first customer and he bought quite a few things, more than most, I mean." She noticed his frown. "Is everything all right, dear?"**

**"Who was that?" he asked suspiciously. "And what were you talking about?"**

**Isabel Cárdenas was surprised by his tone. "He arrived on the coach the other day and is going to live here in Los Angeles. He bought some clothing. I..." she began.**

**Pedro spoke up. "He’s a customer, Father. We met him on the coach from San Pedro. His name is Colonel O’Leary. He is from Spain. He told us some wonderful stories about the army and all his adventures."**

**Roberto Cárdenas tensed. "What have you been telling him?" he demanded.**

**"Why, nothing, dear. He was just here buying clothing, you know, trousers, a jacket, some ties and shirts. That’s all," she replied in consternation. "He’s only been here a few minutes."**

**"All right- just don’t trust an Irishman, that’s all," he said brusquely.**

**"Roberto, what is wrong? He paid in cash. I don’t understand," his wife became upset. She didn’t understand what she might have done wrong.**

**The brown-haired man took a big breath and took a step toward his wife. "I’m sorry, dear. I’ve overreacted. It’s just that he reminds me of a scoundrel I once knew. I just want you to be cautious, that’s all. He’s still a stranger, remember." His wife noticed that his hand was trembling.**

**The boy spoke up. "I don’t think you have to worry about Colonel O’Leary," he told his father. "He’s very funny and he even bought me some sweets."**

**"All right, that's enough for now, son. Why don't you come back here and help me move these packages I brought with me. We can talk about this later." The man handed the boy a small leather apron. "Here, put this on so you don't get your clothes soiled."**

**"I'll take care of the customers until you're ready," Mrs. Cárdenas suggested.**

**"That will be fine, dear. This should not take too long. I have a few more trips to make to San Pedro, but I wanted to bring this first shipment here and let you know the details….so you would not worry," replied her husband.**

**"You're going back again to San Pedro, and so soon?" she asked in surprise. "But, Roberto, you just arrived this morning. Can't you just have them ship the rest of the merchandise here?"**

**"There are some unexpected problems that arose with the shipment and I have to re-negotiate some of the prices. I know this has not happened before, but it is something I need to deal with right away. Just ask María to help you out again for a few more days."**

**"I will," she replied. "Everything went well while you were gone. There is no reason why that should change." She turned as two women customers entered the shop. When she did, her husband disappeared again behind the curtain with his son.**

**When they got to the back door and began to unwrap the packages, Roberto Cárdenas looked at his son. "Why don't you tell me about this Colonel O'Leary," he told the boy. "What did he tell you about the war in Spain?"**

**Pedro's eyes lighted up and he became enthusiastic. "You should have heard all his stories, Father, especially the ones about Espoz y Mina and the French," he began.** ****

**********************************************************************

**The Irish colonel’s uniform disappeared into his old wooden trunk. The jacket, belt, trousers, hat and sash were carefully brushed, then folded. The top of the trunk closed and there was the click of the lock as it was secured.**

**Before the wooden box, a figure rose up slowly and took a deep breath as he turned toward the mirror over the dresser. Patrick O’Leary stood before his reflection in a light brown ranchero’s outfit. The shirt was off-white with a green tie and he wore his long green sash around his waist. He twisted this way and that before the mirror and frowned. Something was still amiss, he thought. _Whenever I look at my face, I still see the colonel. I need to change that_. With that he picked up his razor and shaved off his thick red moustache. He washed his face again, dried it vigorously, and put down the towel. _A small improvement_ , he thought, _but one that will give me a new look_. He sighed, picked up the brown hat and put it on his head. _Now, let’s see what everybody else thinks_. He smiled imagining who might be the most surprised and left the room.**

**The church was quiet but there were a few parishioners coming and going when he arrived. He went inside, looked around for Elena and didn’t see her. He thought better of it, and went to a pew close to the altar and muttered a quick prayer for everyone’s good fortune, including his own. When he began to leave the church, an elderly woman in a black mantilla clutched his arm and asked him to help her into a pew. He obliged her cheerfully. "Do you need help in kneeling down, granny?" he asked.**

**"No, son, but just stay here a spell and help me get back up when I’m finished," she replied. O’Leary stood a moment and realized she might be there quite a while. He moved into the pew behind her and whispered, "Just let me know when you’re ready."**

**She nodded and pulled out her prayer beads.**

**O’Leary sighed and began to ponder how to go about getting a good mount for his day’s activities. Several people passed by and nodded to him on their way out of the church. He returned their silent greetings with a smile of his own. Rich, poor, young, old, they all seem to find a moment for Mother Church, he thought. Then he saw the woman in front turn her head around to look for him. He rose immediately and went to her aid. He helped her up and gave her his arm to take as they headed down the isle to leave.**

**When they reached the church doors and stepped outside, she spoke in a surprisingly strong voice. "I can’t kneel for long," she explained. "It’s my knees. They trouble me at times."**

**"It’s all right, Mother, " O’Leary assured her, "I put in an extra word for you myself and I’m sure the Lord will forgive your short prayers. He knows who’s sincere."**

**"I don’t believe I know you, son. Are you new here to the pueblo?" she asked leaning on her cane. He noticed that she was thin and her hair that showed beneath the mantilla was steel gray.**

**"I arrived on the coach just the other day. I’m Colonel Patrick O’Leary, just retired from the Army," he explained.**

**"Oh, so you’re the Irishman I heard about," she said. She looked him over. "Well, you look mighty fine and handsome, young man, and you have good manners, too. I am Señora de la Cruz. My husband was the first alcalde of San Diego. My daughter lives here in Los Angeles with her husband. He is a lawyer and a good one. We are related to the Villas of Monterey and are cousins of the Ávilas, the major rancheros of Santa Cruz." She paused. "Are you here with your wife?"**

**The red-haired man smiled. "I’ve been too busy with all the wars to marry, Señora, but now that I’m retired, I’ll be looking for a wife."**

**"Oh," the woman responded and her eyes lighted up with renewed interest. "Well, there are some very fine young ladies here in Los Angeles, Colonel, and I have three granddaughters coming of age soon."**

**The colonel smiled benevolently enough, then spotted Father Felipe heading their way. "Well, speaking of good fortune, here’s the Padre," he said.**

**Padre Felipe smiled as he saw Señora de la Cruz standing outside the church doors with a man in a ranchero’s outfit escorting her. "Good morning, Señora de la Cruz. Is this your handsome young nephew visiting you from Santa Cruz?"**

**"Good morning, Father," she replied. "I don’t think you’ve met this young man yet. This is Colonel O’Leary, the Irish gentleman that Señora Cárdenas told us about."**

**"Colonel O’Leary?" asked the priest in astonishment. "Is that really you? What a surprise! I didn’t recognize you at all. My, you look like a distinguished ranchero."**

**O’Leary beamed at that. "It’s my transformation. Thanks to the De la Vegas, I’ve joined the ranks of the Californians."**

**"And a very handsome one, too," commented Señora le la Cruz. "If I were forty years younger, I’d have my eye on him, mind you. He goes to church and doesn’t mind giving an old woman a helping hand to make sure she gets her prayers done."**

**"I’m not sure what Señora de la Cruz is referring to," commented O’Leary easily. "I only helped a handsome woman with a touch of rheumatism. I have met no old women in Los Angeles."  
  
"Now, flattery will get you nowhere, Colonel, " she scolded, but she had a big smile on her face. "If only our own young men had such a way with words, you’d be having weddings every week, Padre."**

**All three of them laughed at that.**

**"Oh, Colonel," Felipe remarked, "you won’t forget about Saturday’s charity auction, will you? I know how men can get caught up in their business affairs, but I’m counting on you to be there. It starts at 11:00 in the morning."**

**"I’ll be there for sure, Holy Father. It’s at the top of my list of priorities. There’s nothing I enjoy more than helping out with the Church," he replied.**

**"Do you have a head for figures?" Señora de la Cruz asked him and then turned to the priest. "Father, Señora Pastora has been ill this week, and will not be able to do the bookkeeping, and we would need someone who would."**

**" I’ll be more than delighted to help out with any bookkeeping, paperwork or decorations you can think of, Padre," responded O’Leary with enthusiasm. "I’ve got a wonderful head for numbers and as much education as anybody for miles around. If I can put it to any good use, just give the word."**

**"I’d be very grateful, Colonel," smiled the priest. "You are a real asset to the church and all of us should have a fine time Saturday."**

**"Until that time then, Señora, Padre," O’Leary took the woman’s gloved hand and kissed it and bowed a courteous retreat. The woman and priest looked at each other and smiled in contentment.**

*************************************************************************

**A clean-shaven and rather bold ranchero in brown walked right past the guards in front of the cuartel and began to enter through the gates without even pausing to get permission. He merely nodded to the guards and began to walk in.** ****

**Sergeant García was crossing the plaza toward the cuartel and saw this breech of etiquette at once. He reacted immediately.** ****

**"Señor! Stop immediately! You must have permission to enter into the cuartel. Señor!"**

**O’Leary turned and watched the big man hurry up to him with the corporal in tow. The sergeant had his hand on the hilt of his saber. He meant business.**

**"Now, Sergeant, I do believe that we have met before," O’Leary said in an authoritative tone.**

**García took another look at the stranger and puzzled over the comment before responding. "I know that voice from somewhere," he mused. His eyes lit up when O’Leary obliged him by removing his hat, which revealed his red hair. "Oh, Señor Colonel, I did not recognize you. A thousand pardons, por favor," he said, saluting. "You really look different without your uniform. And you shaved off your moustache, too."**

**"I’m shorn of the past, Sergeant. You are looking at the new Patrick James O’Leary."**

**The sergeant nodded agreeably. "You look just like a hacendado, Señor Colonel, a real Californian." Corporal Reyes nodded in agreement.**

**O’Leary was pleased by the comment. "My new disguise. Now, Sergeant, may one have a word with the comandante? I wonder if he’ll know me with my new face."**

**"I will tell the capitán that an important hacendado is here to see him, but that I do not recognize him," chuckled the sergeant and knocked at the door of the comandante’s office. Once again, García allowed O’Leary to see a subtle side rarely glimpsed within the cuartel. The colonel understood at once that García acted as he did with the view of self-preservation in mind: if he appeared to know nothing, then little would be expected of him from a commanding officer with a penchant for overachievement and its accompanying frustrations.**

**O’Leary made a quick detour towards the stables, quickly appraising the horses. His eyes gleamed when he caught sight of the white stallion, which stood several hands in height above the others. He saw García waiting for him and hastened across the cuartel.**

**When O’Leary entered the comandante’s office, Capitán Enrique Monastario took a close look at the newcomer. A look of enlightenment crossed his face. "Ah, Señor Colonel, I barely recognized you. I see you have successfully made your transition."**

**"There’s no fooling you, Enrique, although the sergeant was not certain at first. It’s my voice, no doubt."**

**Monastario shook his head and smiled. "No, Colonel. Your eyes are your betrayer."**

**"Ah, I should have known," O’Leary responded. "Beware when Irish eyes are smiling."**

**"What can I do for you?" asked Monastario. "I trust you have begun your unofficial duties."**

**"They would be done more efficiently if I had access to one of your mounts," replied the Irishman with a smile. "I thought one came with the assignment."**

**"Now, Colonel," admonished the captain. "You have been paid a sufficient amount that would enable you to purchase your own mount."**

**"I’m not asking to be given one, only to have use of one until I find a suitable replacement. I found one, but apparently it’s not for sale," replied the colonel slyly. "It’ll just be for a few days. Besides, you should know that I have come upon some intriguing leads this morning that I want to follow up on very quickly."**

**Enrique Monastario did not believe what the colonel just said, but he decided to see if there would be a quick return on his investment in the enterprise. "Just that you understand that supplying you with a steed is not in our agreement, Colonel. I agree to lend you the use of one of our spare mounts for three days, but that is all."**

**"You drive a hard bargain, Enrique. You should have been born an Irishman. Then you would come by your tight fist honestly."**

**The comandante was amused. "You don’t make a bad Spaniard…for an Irishman."**

**O’Leary laughed. "Let’s lend our fencing to more serious matters, old friend. Let me fetch the horse of my choice, then." He made an about face.**

**As he opened the door and began to leave the office, he heard Monastario’s offhand remark that followed him out the door. "Oh, Colonel, the white stallion is ** _not_** at your disposal."** ****

**He imagined the captain smiling and watching him from the window. Then he heard the officer call Sergeant García and tell him to assign the colonel one of the spare horses. García hurried to comply with the orders. Within minutes, Patrick O’Leary was headed out of town on the wide dirt road that lead to the De la Vega hacienda.**  
  
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**[Chapter Fifteen](http://bookscape.net/authors/colonel15.htm)**  
---  
**[Chapter One](http://bookscape.net/authors/colonel1.htm)**  
**[Zorro Contents](http://bookscape.net/zorrocontents.htm)**  
**[Main Page](http://bookscape.net/index.htm)**


	14. The Irish Colonel

The Irish Colonel

_**The Irish Colonel**_

_**by**_

_**Eugene Craig**_  
  
---  
  
****

**DAY THREE**

**Chapter 15**

**It was late in the morning when Bernardo looked out of the window of the sala and saw the ironbound wooden gate to the hacienda open. Through it strolled a man in the clothing of a ranchero. In one hand he carried two small books.**

**Bernardo watched the man carefully. There was something about his stride that the mozo thought seemed very familiar and he studied the newcomer as he paused and looked around the shaded patio before approaching the front door. Bernardo decided to preempt the stranger’s arrival and so opened the door as if heading out himself.** ****

**As he came out the front door, the stranger halted and waited until the servant looked up, then smiled in recognition. Bernardo looked into the green eyes and knew at once who it was. He feigned surprise, intimated a careful inspection of the Irishman, and then, recognition.**

**"Ah, Bernardo," O’Leary said slowly and carefully, allowing the man to read his lips. He removed his brown hat, pointed to his red hair, and raised his eyebrows as if to say, "Now do you know me?"**

**Bernardo smiled, nodded and bowed. He really appreciated the conscious effort that O’Leary made to communicate with him. Very rarely did visitors ever concern themselves with making themselves understood to humble servants, especially to one who was handicapped. But O’Leary was different and knew how to form friendships and loyalties from the start. He waved the colonel into the sala and pointed to a chair. The colonel nodded but remained standing. Bernardo left to look for Diego.**

**Only a few minutes passed before the son of Alejandro de la Vega opened the door to the sala and walked in. He saw that the colonel was looking over the paintings in the room. "Good morning, Colonel O’Leary," Diego smiled. "Welcome to our home. Do you find any of the paintings here of interest?"**

**"Ah, Don Diego," the Irishman said and strode over to shake his hand. "A pleasure. Landscapes always interest me because of their detail. I like to think that I could go there myself."**

**"Speaking of going someplace, will you be able to stay for lunch this afternoon? Or do you have a full schedule?" asked Diego.**

**"Yes, thank you kindly. I have only one trip to make later this afternoon, but I wanted to bring these two books like I promised," responded O’Leary as he picked up two small leather books off the table.**

**"Why don’t we go to the library for now," suggested Diego. "I’d like to examine your books and let you look at ours." He turned toward Bernardo and made the gesture of raising a glass to his lips and pointed to O’Leary. He then gestured with his hands the shape of a bottle. The Irishman smiled and raised two fingers. Diego laughed, "Oh, he won’t forget to bring me a glass, Paddy."**

**"Well, I was thinking more in terms of two bottles – one for each of us," O’Leary commented casually as Diego raised his eyebrows. "One to celebrate my transformation into a Californian and the other as a appetizer before the main meal."**

**Diego smiled and gestured for the Irishman to follow him to the library. He opened the door and had his guest enter first. As Bernardo headed toward the wine cellar, Diego whispered to him, "You know, Bernardo, I think Sergeant García has finally met his match in Los Angeles." The mozo nodded in affirmation.**

****

***************************************************************************

**Diego got a surprise when he opened the first book. He could not read the writing.**

**"Ah, now that’s Irish Gaelic," explained O’Leary. "I brought it just to bedevil you and to read a little. Then I’ll translate it into Spanish. It’s a bit of poetry and literature." He handed Diego the second book. "This will be of greater interest to you since it’s a bit of Irish history in Spanish and of fairly recent printing at that."**

**"Irish, it’s an interesting language to see. I’ve never heard it spoken before, until you began to speak it," commented Diego, examining the unfamiliar words.**

**"The English passed laws forbidding the speaking of our language by our people, but we speak it anyway, often in secret. _Is beatha teanga I ag labhairt_ \- the life of a language is in its speaking -and it helps preserve the thousands of years of our culture and a way of life alien to the conqueror - alien, so he despises it because it’s not his own."**

**"That’s how many whites regard the Indians here, Paddy," Diego remarked.**

**"I see that idiocy is universal, then, among those who view themselves as conquerors."**

**The door opened. Don Alejandro entered the room with purpose. He looked up in surprise when he saw his son with a strange ranchero. "Your pardon, Diego, I did not realize that you had a guest."**

**As the stranger bowed, Diego introduced them. "Father, this is Colonel Patrick O’Leary. He arrived recently from Spain," he began.**

**Alejandro raised his brows, then smiled in recognition. "Colonel O’Leary, a pleasure to see you again." Both of them shook hands. He looked the man over. "Congratulations on your transformation, Colonel. You certainly fooled me. I did not recognize you at all. Welcome to the ranks of the Californians." O'Leary looked very pleased at this statement.**

**"I see that you’ve already met my father, Colonel," smiled Diego. "No doubt at the inn."**

**"That’s right, my son. Colonel O’Leary is hard not to notice. And he’s quite a talker," grinned Alejandro as the Irishman nodded in affirmation.**

**"Well, Father, you may have just met _your_ match," responded Diego. All three laughed at the comment.**

**The door opened again and Bernardo came in with a tray with three glasses and two bottles of wine. "This wine is from our own press," explained Alejandro as Bernardo poured the wine and then handed each man a glass. "Several of our neighbors also have also begun to experiment in the growing of vines and orchards. I believe that the potential here in California will not only be in cattle and hides, but in wines and fruits."** ****

**"This is really excellent," remarked O’Leary as he savored the dark liquid. "If you and your neighbors collaborate, then you might start an unbeatable export business."**

**"Speaking of the neighbors, Diego," Alejandro continued, "why don’t you show Colonel O’Leary around, introduce him to the Castillos, the Villas, and the Torres’ families."**

**Paddy smiled. "Ah, do you mean the family of Don Nacho Torres?"**

**Diego raised his eyebrows again and looked over at his father as he asked O’Leary, "Have you met Don Nacho already?"**

**"Well, now," O’Leary began and put his glass down. "It just so happened that I met the very attractive and charming Señorita Elena in church only yesterday. I’m very impressed with her modesty and piety. I had no idea that she was the daughter of such a prominent gentleman." He paused. "She wore the nicest green dress and she seemed like a sweet local girl, just the kind I’m looking for."**

**"Ah, Colonel," Diego said, clearing his throat and changing the subject. "I just thought of a book that might interest you a great deal. It’s about the first settlements in California. While you look at it, I’ll get another liquor that we produce here as well." He pulled a book off the shelf and handed to the red-haired man who opened it up right away and began to leaf though the pages. Then Diego went across the room to a cabinet. "Oh, Father," he asked, "don’t we have a few glasses just for the liquor?"**

**Alejandro hastened over and stooped to open another cabinet door. Diego leaned over and whispered in his ear, "He certainly gets around fast, doesn’t he?"**

**Alejandro nodded and removed three glasses from the cabinet. "It’s almost like he’s a man with a mission or one who wants to settle in fast."**

**Diego nodded thoughtfully then straightened up. "Ah, I think you will be interested in this, Colonel."** ****

*******************************************************************************

**Everyone had cleaned their plates and was enjoying another after-lunch liquor in the sala when the subject of the local tyranny was brought up once more. There was no stopping Alejandro de la Vega's criticisms concerning the taxes and oppressions visited upon them by Capitán Monastario.**

**Patrick O'Leary sat back in his chair. "No one likes oppressive taxation anywhere," he remarked. "But how about this Zorro fellow? The comandante remarked to me that he is some kind of highwayman. But there are others who say that he is practically a republican, fighting against the local tyranny. Perhaps you gentlemen could enlighten me. As a newcomer here, it is a bit confusing."**

**Alejandro looked over at Diego who gave him a nod. Alejandro became quite passionate on the subject. "I wouldn't rely on the capitán for any objective view on the subject matter, Colonel" Alejandro said forcefully. "The simple fact of the matter is that this Zorro is a man who intervenes on the side of justice. When men are wrongly arrested and imprisoned by the comandante, El Zorro rides to free them. When men are tortured while jailed, Zorro rides to free them. And when the Indians or peons are abused or whipped, Zorro shows up to put an end to it."** ****

**"I have heard such tales," commented the Irishman thoughtfully. "It would seem the right thing to do under the circumstances. But how does this Zorro see himself as the arbiter of justice outside the institutions of the law? Has not the comandante been given the authority to act as he does?"**

**"I know that you and Monastario were once comrades, Paddy," said Diego in a mild tone of voice, "but you need to know that the comandante seems to have no regard for public opinion or to have any accountability for the actions he takes. He purports to be the law even though he often acts outside of it. He has the duty to uphold the security of our pueblo and the King's laws. No one disagrees with this. But what we have disputes over is the brutality and heavy handedness by which he conducts himself in contradiction of the law."**

**"And not only this, my friend," exclaimed Alejandro. "Capitán Monastario acts just as you described it: a man for whom the war has never ended. He sees everyone as an enemy and treats them as such. How can anyone deal with such a man?"**

**"What is the situation with the civil authorities here?" asked Paddy.**

**"Monastario ignores the alcalde, an honest and upright gentleman," Alejandro explained. "We have attempted several times to intervene with the comandante through the alcalde and local prominent citizens, but he has dismissed us in a contemptuous manner. I think that Monastario believes that he is beholden to no one and that he can do just as he pleases. The longer he is here and the longer that the governor is in ignorance of what is happening here, the worse he becomes. He seems to think up a new devilry every week."**

**"It would seem that this Zorro also thinks that the comandante has gone too far," commented Paddy. "From what you say about his actions, he wants justice done in specific instances, rather than getting rid of the military authority. It would seem also that he is an upright subject of the king, but a very indignant one."**

**Diego nodded in agreement, but his father added. "I would agree with that assessment but would like to make a further point: if Monastario continues to conduct himself in the manner that he has, Zorro may be forced to go further than he has. I don't think anyone would weep about the consequences either."**

**"Do you have any idea who this Zorro might be?" asked O'Leary pointedly. He looked at Alejandro because he was the most emphatic in his opinions. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Diego shrug.**

**"No one knows who Zorro is, Paddy, but he has many admirers because he is a man of action who will no longer take oppression lying down. When one of our neighbors is dealt a blow, it is like a blow dealt to all of us. When Zorro rides, we cheer him and wish him well," said Alejandro.**

**Diego turned toward the colonel. "What do you think about all this, Paddy? Even though you are new to our pueblo, you must have formed some impressions already. Sometimes we can become so enmeshed in our own troubles that we fail to see something that we are not doing right."**

**"Everyone knows that I knew Enrique as a comrade in the old war," Paddy responded. "I told you that he is now not the same young man that I once knew in the regiment and it troubles me. The world has changed. Men who once fought with each other now find each other on the opposite side of the barricades politically. Enrique seems to think that those who oppose him, oppose the King, whom he equates with his own authority. "**

**"It is one reason why he is so difficult to deal with," observed Alejandro.** ****

**O’Leary shook his head. "He actually had the temerity to denounce those here who object to his actions as ‘republicans.’ Certainly he must realize that I, as an Irish patriot, am one. But, on the other hand, maybe he views me with the same nostalgia \- seeing me in the old light and not realizing that the times have changed and that he himself has changed. I’ve always been what I am."**

**"That might save you from some grief for the time being," said Diego. "But eventually the kind of actions he engages in would turn even you, an old comrade, against him."**

**"You are very clear sighted, Diego." The colonel paused and took a sip of the liquor. "I once told him that we were tied together by the threads of history of the old war. These are bonds that are hard to break because they are more emotional than logical and, try hard as we can, we cannot often break these old bonds easily. As for what I think of right now, I have not witnessed the oppressions myself, but from what I can gather, they are alive and real. Even the soldiers of the cuartel do not feel the kind of loyalty and warmth toward their commanding officer that creates a position of strength and power – the very strength that Enrique likes to project and be respected for."**

**"Can’t he realize that what he is doing is creating hatred and opposition? If he wants respect, then he should conduct himself in a way that earns him respect," said Alejandro.** ****

**"I want you to know that I have had discussions with Enrique about this. To change would benefit everyone, most especially him. The man I remember is worth the effort, but more than that, I cannot say," Paddy concluded.**

**"I wish you luck," said Alejandro, "but you may find that he is very inflexible now and will tax even your old bonds of friendship."**

**"Speaking of friendship," Diego said, changing the subject, "Paddy and I talked earlier about meeting some of the neighbors."**

**"Ah, yes, that you did," said the Irishman. "I seem to remember that you mentioned a fiesta and I think that’s a grand idea. Once you meet people in a social setting, then they feel more comfortable in getting to know you better."**

**"I seem to remember that it was your suggestion, Paddy," remarked Diego with a smile, "not that it really matters."**

**Alejandro grinned and sipped more of his drink to keep from laughing.**

**"Was it? Well, I’m not so sure," Paddy continued with an innocent air. "At any rate, it is a grand idea and it’s a beautiful setting for one here, isn’t it? I could arrange the entertainment and escort some of the distinguished senior townsfolk here."**

**"You know, Diego, I think that this idea for a social gathering is a good one," said Alejandro. "We haven’t had a party here in quite a while and it would be nice to get together with old friends and a few of the old timers. If Colonel O’Leary could escort them here and back home, I’m sure many of them would be more than happy to come. We could also invite our neighbors and other friends in town. What do you say to that, Colonel?"**

**"I accept with enthusiasm, Don Alejandro," The Irishman responded. "I’ve met several fine people in town, like the Cárdenas family, the distinguished Señora de la Cruz, and a few others. Would you mind if I brought my friends?"**

**"Not at all," smiled Alejandro. "Like I said, it’s been much too long since we’ve had a gathering here and some of these people, like Señora de la Cruz, are old acquaintances."**

**"Then it’s settled," beamed O’Leary. "Now when would you like to hold it?"**

**"Did you have a time in mind, Paddy?" asked Diego. "Now that we’ve made the plans, why don’t we move ahead."**

**"I like the way you think, Diego. Why not Saturday evening, after the bazaar at the church? Or is that too soon?" responded the colonel.**

**Both the De la Vegas shook their heads and answered, "No, no, not a problem," although each seemed to know what the other was thinking.**

**O’Leary stood up. "I hope you gentlemen won’t mind if I bow out on you, but I do remember an appointment I had in just a little while. If I had known what a grand time I would have here, I would have not considered making it."**

**"That’s all right, Colonel," responded Alejandro as he stood up. "There are always other occasions to visit again."**

**"Paddy, I’m looking forward to reading your history of Ireland," said Diego. "The next time we meet, I’m sure I’ll have many questions for you. But you’ll have to give me lessons before I attempt to read your poetry book."**

**"Ah, but what’s even more interesting is all the history that’s left out of the books. What you have in your hand is just the appetizer," began O’Leary.**

**"The colonel is the ‘main course,’ ended Alejandro with a chuckle. O'Leary grinned.**

**Upon reaching the door out to the patio, the Irishman asked if he might ask Bernardo help him with something. Diego nodded and waved his servant to the door. He was curious about what the man could be up to and when the door closed, he went to the window and watched the two men. His father joined him. "What can he be up to now?" he asked. Diego shrugged.**

**O’Leary bowed to Bernardo who then bowed in turn. The red-haired man motioned the mozo over to the flowers that bloomed in and around the patio and within the low stone wall that surrounded the main patio shade tree. He motioned to the flowers indicating that he liked them. With his hands he made the motion of breaking the stem.**

**Bernardo nodded. He indicated a red flower and the Irishman nodded. Bernardo broke it off and handed it to him. He started to walk away, but the colonel grabbed his elbow and pointed to another flower further away, a purple one. Bernardo picked it. Then a white one, then a yellow one.**

**Bernardo raised his eyes questioningly as to picking still yet another flower. O’Leary indicated that there was a profusion of flowers and that picking a few would be no harm. He carefully chose several more in a way that they wouldn’t be missed from an esthetic point of view. When he finished he had quite a bouquet and the colonel was more than pleased. Bernardo began looking about him as if he should have not done it. The colonel reached in his pocket and gave the servant a coin which Bernardo did not want to take. The colonel patted him on the shoulder and smiled. Bernardo tried to hand the coin back, but the colonel waved him away. On his way out the door the Irishman stopped and picked a few fern leaves to add to the bunch, wrapped the stems in a handkerchief he took from a pocket and closed the gate behind him.**

**Alejandro shook his head. "I wonder what that was all about."**

**Diego sighed. "I think Colonel O’Leary is about to pay a call on Señorita Torres," he answered.** ****  
  
---  
  
**[Chapter Sixteen](http://bookscape.net/authors/colonel16.htm)**  
---  
**[Chapter One](http://bookscape.net/authors/colonel1.htm)**  
**[Zorro Contents](http://bookscape.net/zorrocontents.htm)**  
**[Main Page](http://bookscape.net/index.htm)**


	15. The Irish Colonel

The Irish Colonel

_**The Irish Colonel**_

_**by**_

_**Eugene Craig**_  
  
---  
  
**DAY THREE**

**Chapter 16**

**It was a good twenty-minute ride out to the hacienda of Don Nacho Torres, whose lands bordered on those of the De la Vegas. As he rode around the bend in the dirt road, Paddy beheld a fair sight: a great walled estate built amidst ancient and towering oaks. The surrounding meadows were vast and yellow. Beyond the hacienda in the distance stretched low hills that gradually rose up higher with each successive valley. Most were covered with oak trees. Within the high walls, he could see a two-story adobe building with a Spanish balcony that stretched around three-quarters of the second floor. It was made of strong wooden beams and from the overhang hung a profusion of potted plants, flowers and ferns. Some of the windows were open to catch the afternoon breeze.**

**It’s an impressive spread, thought O’Leary, as he brought the horse to a halt and sat back in the saddle to contemplate the scene _. I’ll know what the Torres are really like when I see how they treat their servants_ , he thought _. Actions always speak louder than words_. With that he urged the horse forward and soon came abreast of the gates of the home.**

**Elena Torres had stepped out on the balcony outside her room and was enjoying the afternoon breeze. In the distance, far off into the oak-covered hills, she saw a rider approaching on the dirt road. The man was well dressed in the clothing of a ranchero and rode a brown horse. As he came closer she studied the stranger. He wore a brown hat that shaded his eyes and was clean-shaven, probably in his early thirties or so. She moved in among the hanging plants so she would not be so easily observed. That way she could watch him more carefully. His demeanor was serious but he was a very nice-looking man, she thought. As he rode up to the gate, he startled her by calling out, "Ah, is that Señorita Torres hiding up there among the plants?"**

**She momentarily debated whether to duck back into her room or walk to the end of the balcony and acknowledge his greeting. Something in his voice spoke of a familiarity, so she emerged from the hanging plants and leaned over the balcony. "I am Señorita Torres, Señor. I don’t believe I know you."**

**The man brought his horse to a halt, looked up and smiled. "But we met at the church only yesterday, Señorita. Don’t you remember that Padre Felipe was there and then your mother drove up in her carriage?"**

**The young woman looked puzzled a moment. She looked him over very carefully. Then she saw his red hair. "That isn’t Colonel O’Leary is it?" she asked in surprise.**

**"Colonel O’Leary in person," he acknowledged, removing his hat and making a bow from the waist. "I trust I haven’t frightened you in any way by dropping by unannounced?"**

**"I don’t think you could really frighten anyone, Señor," she replied and ran a hand through her hair that had began to blow a bit in the breeze. "But you really look different – and very elegant in your new clothes."**

**"Why, thank you," replied Paddy. "I wasn’t so sure about how to array myself, but thanks to Diego’s help, I’ve made my transformation. It’s a real honor to have a friend like him."**

**"Would you like to come in for some refreshment?" asked Elena. Now she smiled. "It must have been a warm ride for you all the way out here and I’m sure that Mother would be very happy to see you again so soon."**

**"Now that sounds just grand," he responded.**

**"I’ll be down in a moment," she said. She straightened up and called to someone down in the courtyard. "Oh, Juan, will you please open the gate for the gentleman outside?" He heard a voice reply, "Sí, Señorita Elena." Then she exited from the balcony and hurried through her room.**

**O’Leary saw the gates open slowly. He saw a young Indian in his twenties with long black hair and dressed in clean white peasants’ clothing and good quality sandals. The young man smiled pleasantly at the stranger and took the reins of his horse for him and tied him up at the hitching rail in front of the house. O’Leary thanked him and noted the relaxed but respectful demeanor of the man. Here was a man who felt secure and happy, thought the colonel – a good sign. He retrieved the flowers and decided to hide them until the right moment of presentation.**

**When Elena Torres opened the entrance door, the Irishman walked towards her with a bemused look. She noticed he had one hand hidden behind his back as he walked towards her. She hesitated. "Are you hiding something behind you, Señor?" she asked.**

**O’Leary halted and looked embarrassed. "Well, yes I am," he admitted. "I thought I might just surprise you with a small token of my esteem." Her eyes widened in surprise when he presented her with a bouquet of very colorful flowers. "I hope you don’t mind."**

**Elena was very pleased and took them from him, examining them in appreciation. "Why, how thoughtful of you. They’re lovely."**

**"If they brighten your day in any way, then it was well worth the trip out here," he said gallantly.**

**"You know, Colonel O’Leary," she remarked as she opened the door and led the way toward the sala, "I hear you are quite the ladies' man. And I can understand why."**

**Once they reached the sala, another Indian, an elderly woman, appeared. Elena smiled at her. "Look at the pretty flowers Colonel O’Leary brought for us, Ana, " she said. "Could you please put them in a vase with water and bring them back into the sala." The woman smiled and, nodding, took the flowers and disappeared into a side room. "Ana will make a beautiful arrangement." She turned back to him. "They will brighten up the room."**

**"I’m just a doddering old sentimentalist," he said conversationally. "I love the small things in life that we often overlook, like pretty flowers, a lark singing in the trees, or a breeze playing a melody with the leaves in the forest. I thought you would, too."**

**A voice floated down from the balcony above the sala. "Good afternoon, Colonel O’Leary."**

**The colonel looked up and saw Doña Luisa making her way towards the stairs. He walked over to take her hand and kiss it as she reached the bottom stair. "I’m sorry I was not here to greet you at once, but I had fallen asleep reading a book." The woman’s eyes were kind even though her features were stern and she smiled as he straightened up from kissing her hand.**

**"I should be the one to apologize for just dropping in," he replied.**

**"Elena said that I should expect you to look quite different from when we first me you at church," she said. "I think you are even more handsome than you were then."**

**The Irishman bowed. "I can only blame my transformation into a Californian to account for the improvement."**

**At that moment, Ana re-entered the room with the flowers in a vase. Elena Torres turned and took them from her, smiling. "They look wonderful. Thank you, Ana." The Indian smiled. Elena showed the flowers to her mother. "I think we can forgive Colonel O'Leary, Mother, especially when he brought us such lovely flowers."**

**Doña Luisa nodded. "Colonel, I want you to know that no one in California needs to apologize for visiting unannounced. Our home is always open to friends and our home is yours."**

**"I'm deeply honored, Señora," he replied.**

**There was the sound of a door opening and closing from the courtyard. There was a look of recognition and expectation on the faces of the Torres women and O'Leary knew that Don Ignacio Torres had arrived.**

**When the door to the sala opened, Nacho Torres saw his wife and daughter standing with a slender man with a smile on his face and with fire-red hair. He knew at once who the stranger was from their earlier description of the newcomer. Nevertheless, he stopped and looked the group over and then stepped forward with his hand outstretched to the Irishman. "Colonel O'Leary, at last we meet," he said genially. "Your reputation has proceeded you." The women smiled.**

**"Don Ignacio, I'm honored. The De la Vegas have spoken highly of you and your family," replied O' Leary.**

**"Please, Colonel, just call me Don Nacho. All my friends do," the thin, mustachioed ranchero responded. "We welcome you to our home."**

**"Colonel O'Leary just arrived several minutes ago, Nacho," said Doña Luisa explained. "He brought by the loveliest flowers."**

**"I believe that calls for some wine," smiled her husband. "One good turn deserves another. Do you have a particular favorite, Colonel?"**

**O' Leary smiled. "Don Alejandro served me some from his own press and I was very favorably impressed. If this means anything, all three of us went through a few bottles."**

**"Ah," the don commented, "no doubt Alejandro told you that some of our neighbors have been experimenting with their own vineyards. We have done the same and, as you already know, the results are promising." He nodded to his daughter. "Elena, why don't you get one of our bottles from the cellar. I think we may have a better red than Don Alejandro has." He turned back to the colonel. "I'll want your opinion, Colonel. After all, as a disinterested third party, you could give us your unbiased opinion."**

**"Now, I don't know about that, Don Nacho," Paddy responded. "Don Alejandro has already got the wind up on me by serving me his own first, so I'm not exactly unbiased. However, as a wine lover, I'll do my best to try to be objective. I must warn you, though, that when it comes to the vintage, no one can ever call me 'disinterested.'"**

**************************************************************************

**It was a good hour later, Don Nacho mentioned, from his chair on the patio, that he had heard from Padre Felipe that the charity fund on Saturday was expected to have a good turnout.**

**"It's a pity about Señora Pastora being ill," Paddy mused. "I understand that she has been quite faithful in her attendance to these affairs."**

**"That's true," Doña Luisa affirmed. "It's almost breaking her heart that she can't be there. The doctor advised rest for another week."**

**"How do you know about Señora Pastora?" asked Elena. "Have you also met her as well?"**

**"Well, it just so happened when I was at church, I was talking with Señora de la Cruz and the Holy Father about this Saturday's event. It broke my heart to learn of the dear lady's affliction. Now, Señora de la Cruz asked me if I knew anything about bookkeeping and I told her it was like a second language to me," responded O'Leary. "She then explained that Señora Pastora usually did the books for the bazaar and they were looking for someone who knew numbers. I just had to volunteer to help out, knowing it would ease the mind of Señora Pastora to know they'd found someone to help out in her place."**

**All three of the Torres looked very impressed. "That's very Christian of you, Colonel," said Don Nacho. "You fit so well into our pueblo with your spirit of charity and helpfulness. Padre Felipe has spoken highly of you."**

**"You know, Don Nacho, I love the spirit of the people here. When I first arrived in town, the De la Vegas were very warm and welcoming. Then, everywhere I went, I found hospitality and openness. It's things like which that move a man to open his heart and want to be a part of that community," the Colonel responded. "When I found out about the auction for charity I said to myself, 'Paddy, go there and see what you can do to help all these fine folk.' I'm really looking forward to meeting everyone and being a part of the good work of the Church."**

**"We think that Padre Felipe's charity work is commendable. He is always finding ways to help the poor and the oppressed. He is a man of quiet courage," Doña Luisa said in a calm tone, but one that failed to disguise her enthusiasm. "Every year we participate and contribute to the auction because we know it will go to help those less fortunate than we are."**

**"We do this in Ireland as well. It's a tradition to help the poor and to love them as we would love ourselves. Did you know that some of the greatest patriots of Ireland have been selfless priests, just like Padre Felipe?" asked O' Leary. "When the English burned our churches and tried to kill our faith in God and our love for our way of life and the thousands of years that Ireland was one land and of one people, our priests became the leaders of a resistance movement that has never died to this day. As an Irish poet wrote**

**in a poem entitled _Tuireadh na hÉirinn_ (Dirge of Ireland)**

**Who would not mourn the soul of generosity?**

**Piaras Feiritéar, of much erudition**

**Tadhg O’Connor and Bishop MacEgan (who)**

**Were hanged [ by the English] on the Hill of Sheep**

**The head of O’Connor was put on a spike…**

**Others they transported and transplanted [as slaves] to Jamaica.**

**"How horrible," reacted Doña Luisa in dismay. "Did the English really kill priests and poets?"**

**"Aye, they did. Even our noblemen were systematically hunted down and killed including Sir Phelim O’Neill, Theobald Bourke, Viscount of Mayo, and his father. Bourke was shot before a firing squad, but O’Neill was hanged, drawn and quartered," the Irishman explained. "This was the price of resisting occupation. Poets and scholars of Ireland, like Father Brian Mac Giolla Phádraig of the diocese of Ossory, were captured and beheaded." He paused a moment. "But our people never faltered in their spirit. Songs from the people glorifying resistance came into being, like this one. O' Leary began in Irish and switched to Spanish:**

_**Ar m’éirí dhom ar maidin, grian an tsamhra ag taitneamh**_

**Rising in the morning, when the summer sun was shining**

**I heard the bugle crying, and the sweet song of the bird**

**Hares and badgers running, long-beaked woodcocks calling,**

**Loudly rang the echoes, and the strong noise of guns;**

**The red fox rockward speeding, horsemen all hallooing,**

**The woman in the roadway, lamenting her lost fowl,**

**But now the woods are falling, overseas we’ll travel**

**And Sheáin Uí Dhuibhir an Ghleanna, you have lost your game.**

**"Secular and regular priests were executed, often suffering torture and cruel afflictions. Father James Finaghty was tied to a horse’s tail and dragged naked through the streets, then thrown into a dungeon. As a result of this oppression, priests became heroes to people for their refusal to surrender and their courage in death. When castles were captured, like that of Seán an Fhíona, the English hanged all the men, women and children that they found. This is what the English call 'bringing freedom' to Ireland."**

**There was silence in the room when Paddy finished speaking. "I had no idea it was that terrible," whispered Elena. "And I thought that the French had been cruel from what Father said."**

**Don Nacho bowed his head, then looked into the eyes of the Irishman. "I heard that you have served Spain against Bonaparte all the years of the war," he said softly. "If only Spain could have done the same for you. How long have the English been in Ireland, Don Patricio?"**

**Paddy O'Leary sighed. He had not realized what emotions the poetry had drawn out of his soul and the passion he felt after so many years. _It's always so deep_ , he thought before answering. "Spain was seven years under the boot of Bonaparte," he replied. "But it's been seven hundred years of English occupation in Ireland." There was pain in his voice.**

**"I know this will not help much," Don Nacho said in the same quiet voice, "but you have our love and understanding. We have our own oppressor right here in Los Angeles, though not as terrible as having a foreign occupier. Still, it is a burden on our hearts and conscience. Knowing that you and your people have resisted such oppression further strengthens our hearts to resist as well."**

**"But we believe we must resist in a positive way and that is to act out of love when there is hate, and to act out of charity when there is greed," said Elena. "It is the way Padre Felipe believes we should act."**

**"I had no idea things were bad in Los Angeles," the colonel said sadly. "Everywhere I've gone, people have been open and generous. Even the comandante had been friendly and helpful - to me, that is. But, then, I've only been here three days."**

**There was silence in the room as the Torres family members looked at each other.**

**"Would you care to talk about it?" asked the Irishman. "I'm new to this pueblo and I would really like to know what to expect rather than walking around with illusions. But, I believe, as you do, that we should act with good faith and in expectation of good deeds rather than emphasize the negative."**

**"Don Patricio, Paddy," began Nacho. "You have been very open with everyone. You have not hidden the fact that you once knew Capitán Monastario a long time ago in Spain. Diego tells me that you told him that, back in those years, the comandante was a very admirable man, a man who honored the brave and valiant who fought for Spain. He said that the capitán was wronged by a family tragedy, and that he was a man who was perhaps punished unjustly by those who were jealous and vindictive."**

**Don Nacho paused a long moment before he continued. His dark eyes held the green ones of the Irishman. "But, dear friend, the man you once knew has closed his heart to compassion and honor. For some reason, he feels that he must inflict upon others a great deal of pain and suffering. I do not understand the kind of transformation that could take place, unless a man had lost faith in humanity and in God to rectify injustice and so, acts unjustly as if to somehow make others feel the pain that he cannot purge from himself. Sometimes, I do not know whether to hate Monastario or to pity him."**

**"We Irish have a saying about that - 'His own wound is what everyone feels soonest,'"**

**Paddy remarked.**

**"Forgive us, please, Don Patricio," said Doña Luisa. "We have held our peace many times when we saw injustice here, hoping that it was just a passing incident or two. But when we tried to speak with Capitán Monastario about different ways to solve problems, he accused Nacho of interfering with his authority and the law. My husband knows the laws quite well and was able to respond to the comandante from a legal standpoint. This only angered Capitán Monastario. He told Nacho that he was playing a dangerous game that bordered on treason."**

**"My wife went to see Capitán Monastario after our disagreement, Colonel," explained the Don. "She told him that she hoped she could clear up any misunderstandings that might have occurred between me and him. She wanted him to know that we did not oppose the king's laws or his, the capitán's, authority to enforce the law. She said that we were only concerned that perhaps he did not see the various ways problems could be approached that would mean solving them amicably rather than leaving everyone with a bad taste in their mouth."**

**"How did the comandante react to your visit, Doña Luisa?" asked O' Leary.**

**"Capitán Monastario listened to me politely," she said. "After I finished, he told me that he was surprised that I would concern myself with politics - that it is not a woman's place. I told him good relations between loyal subjects of the king and his representative, the comandante was my concern and that if he defined that as politics, well, I guess I was guilty of that. He told me that as the king's representative, it was his prerogative to make decisions for the welfare of Spain. He said that the interests of Spain overrode the interests of individuals who felt sorry for lawbreakers."**

**"He really wasn't interested in what Mother had to say," interjected Elena. "When I told him it was not that we felt sorry for lawbreakers, it was that we felt the punishment was all out of proportion of the crime committed or the supposed crime committed."**

**"How did he respond to you, Señorita Elena?" their visitor queried.**

**"Capitán Monastario spoke to me in a quiet and respectful manner. This surprised me because he resents my father. He told me New Spain is in a grave crisis, a crisis I could not understand - that there is a great battle going on throughout the Américas between those loyal to Spain and those trying to overthrow the rule of law and order. He said he has spent most of his life fighting those who would overthrow the natural order of civilization - first, the usurper Bonaparte, and now those who would plot the 'independence' of the American colonies."**

**"I have heard this line of argument before," mused O' Leary. "Your pardon, Señorita, please continue."**

**Elena sighed. "When I objected that Father is not trying to overthrow anything, he began a lecture. He told me Father's position is actually treason against the king. He said he has tried to be very patient with people who have different views. But, considering the nature of the wars being fought for Spain's survival, and the stakes being fought over, he could no longer tolerate people, ideas or their actions that could only culminate in sedition and rebellion. Then he said to me, 'Elena, I have just come from Peru where we crucified men, and worse, for far less crimes than what your father is espousing. I hope he will not put me in a position to where the kind of martial law we had in Venezuela or Peru will have to be imposed here. You, with your good sense and good heart, must convince him to stop interfering in the administration of justice.' After that, he asked me to leave the room because he wanted a few final words with Mother."**

**O'Leary's eyes moved from the brown-eyed girl to her mother. The woman sighed and wrung her hands. "Capitán Monastario told me that I should be ashamed for bringing Elena here to speak with him when she was so naïve about the world. He said he was going to be frank, it was not something personal, and it was neither against me nor against Elena. He said if I did not want to be a widow, I would tell Nacho to 'cease and desist.' He acted like he was doing me a favor by giving me a warning without acting first."**

**Don Nacho reached over and took his wife's hand and held it. "I did not know that she and Elena had gone to talk with the comandante," he said. "If I had known, I would have not allowed it. But, as you can see, this is a family that acts out of concern and love, and will not be deterred by convention or threats."**

**"And what were these terrible acts of sedition you were espousing, Don Nacho," asked Paddy.**

**"First of all, for insisting that any man accused of a crime be given a trial and be provided with legal representation - including the cattle rustlers that Monastario captured and some Indians he executed. Second, that the civil authorities, including the alcalde, be advised and consulted before raising of such high taxes and the use of military force to collect them. Third, that the military authorities not consider the participation of the rancheros or hacendados in determining taxes, new laws, or policing, as an imposition on the prerogative of the comandante. And finally, that the comandante take into account local interests and concerns, and act multilaterally rather than unilaterally. There were always good relations between the civil and military authorities before Monastario was appointed," explained Don Nacho.**

**"Who appointed Monastario?" asked the Irishman. "There must have been a consensus of opinion that his kind of rule was needed in Los Angeles."**

**"You are right," the ranchero agreed. "There have been a number of governors, each with their own philosophy about the situation in the colonies. Above the governors are the Viceroys, as you know. The same is true with them. Their relationship with the military is a close one here in California, just like elsewhere in the colonies. Politics determines what kind of comandante we get. In the past, there was much indifference, but all this has changed. There is a great battle of ideas going on in both Spain and in the Américas and I fear that we are beginning to experience the extremity of both. Monarchy fears republicanism and republicanism fears the monarchy. Each side fears the other and that fear itself engenders even more fear. Now, paranoia rules. Monastario, I suppose, is the logical conclusion of those who fear change so much that they will enact policies, laws, and actions that drive reasonable men into the arms of those they fear the most."**

**"And now we come to El Zorro," commented O'Leary.**

**"And now we come to El Zorro," agreed Nacho Torres. "Let me tell you about him and the good he has done in Los Angeles."**  
  
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**[Chapter Seventeen](http://bookscape.net/authors/colonel17.htm)**  
---  
**[Chapter One](http://bookscape.net/authors/colonel1.htm)**  
**[Zorro Contents](http://bookscape.net/zorrocontents.htm)**  
**[Main Page](http://bookscape.net/index.htm)**


	16. The Irish Colonel

The Irish Colonel

_**The Irish Colonel**_

_**by**_

_**Eugene Craig**_  
  
---  
  
**Day Three**

**Chapter 17**

**It was after dark when Patrick O' Leary mounted his horse and left the Torres' hacienda. Don Nacho had offered him a bed for the night, but O' Leary declined. He had much experience in traveling the roads at night while in the army and, being that it was a moonlit evening, the ride would not be a difficult one. He thanked the Torres family for their hospitality and assured them that whatever they said about Monastario would be held in the strictest of confidences.**

**Don Nacho had taken his hands and looked him in the eyes with affection as he stood, ready to take his leave. "Colonel, I sense in you an honorable man. Let me assure you that we have the greatest trust in the kind of man you are."**

**Paddy reflected as he rode along the dirt road back toward the pueblo of Los Angeles that he always held an affection for people like the Torres. They might be naïve and unaware of the real danger they had put themselves in with the comandante, but they were honest and principled. _People like me own family_ , he thought _. Republicans - always on the side of the underdog and living their principles as well as speaking them. Their servants are happy, just like Bernardo at the De la Vegas_. This spoke a great deal in their favor. _And these are the kind of people that Enrique sees as a threat to his authority._**

**The colonel understood the nature of the warning the captain had given Doña Luisa far better than its recipient did. Oddly, Enrique had been far more honest with her and Elena when he told her what he had done to people, like her father, in Peru. But it was a dreadful kind of warning that he imparted, as if to say _'don't say that I never warned you_.' Maybe he even likes the girl - in his own way.**

_**I wonder how many people in this pueblo actually support the ideas of the Torres and the De la Vegas?**_ **Certainly, the troops in the cuartel are not inspired to loyalty nor are some of the townspeople. _On the other hand, Enrique reveals very little. Surely he does have his local supporters, men as interested in maintaining the status quo as he is - men who would back him up if rebellion were to break out_. Damn, things were more complicated than the placid face of the town first revealed.**

**Then, there was this Zorro fellow. From what Paddy could ascertain, he had almost superhuman qualities, something that made the Irishman think of Cuchulain, Fionn and other Irish heroes who were supposed to have been seven feet tall and who could lay a dozen foes low with a single blow. _Such is the making of legends_ , he mused, _when legends are needed. I have a few ideas of my own on what he may be and what he may have done in the past, but then…._**

**The colonel gradually became aware of a horse's footsteps matching that of his own mount’s as he cantered along the moonlit road. He caught it for sure by suddenly changing the gait of his horse. Whoever was following him was doing so at a discreet distance, yet it was somewhere there, just beyond the trees on the hill. _Damn, and me without me saber_ , he thought. _You're getting careless in your old age, Padraig, me lad_.**

**He decided to give no indication he was aware that he was being paralleled. He studied the land formations ahead and saw that there were low lying meadows and rising and falling hills on either side of the road. With many trees, it would not be hard to get lost among them, disappearing into the shadows and becoming one of them. In addition, there were outcrops and a few other rock formations that would be perfect for ambushes at night. An ambush for one could be turned into an ambush for another and then it would become a contest of who was the most clever, adroit and imaginative.**

**O' Leary gradually increased the speed his mare. He at once noted that his follower did the same. There was, of course, the obvious tactic of giving spur and galloping like hell all the way back to the pueblo. Then it would be a test of whose steed was the better. Besides, if the stranger was armed with a pistol or a saber, and meant to rob or kill, then the fight would be better played out on the ground. Paddy could take a knife out of the hand of an opponent before he had time to draw his breath - so, he was not too worried on that account.**

**Up ahead, he saw how the hill melted down into the road on the right side. He knew at once what the stranger would do - intersect him at that point. _So, someone wants to meet you, me lad_ , he thought. _Shall we let him?_ As he approached the point in the road, he slowed down and eventually came to a stop. He turned towards his invisible opponent and shouted in a loud voice, "If it's me you want to meet, then come down here to the road and say 'hello' like a decent man."**

**Only silence greeted his words. He sat back in the saddle, his eyes traveling over the dark oaks and moonlit hills. Then he saw it - a tall, slender man in black on a dark horse slowly making his way down the hills from among the dark trees. As he approached, the Irishman saw that he wore a black hat and there was a black mask that hid most of his face. At his side was his saber, also painted a dull black for night concealment. Behind him hung a black cape, more for show than substance, thought the colonel. _Funny_ , thought O' Leary _, I feel no sense of a threat from this fellow_.**

**"Ah, Señor Zorro," he said in a cordial tone of voice. "I was wondering when we would meet. No doubt you've shown up just to bedevil me, or is this just a plain robbery?"**

**"Welcome to Los Angeles, Colonel," replied the man in black. "I have heard about your exploits with Espoz y Mina. He's a man I respect a great deal, and more for his recent politics, as opposed to his past ones."**

**O' Leary pondered the statement. "I take it, then, that this is no robbery. A pity we can't meet over a glass of the vintage and discuss this more."**

**El Zorro gave him a wide smile. "But I am here, as you say, Colonel, to bedevil you a bit."**

**O' Leary studied the man opposite him - his build, his easy handling of the young stallion he rode, his clear diction. _This man is no highwayman_ , he thought. "What did you have in mind, then, Señor?"**

**"Just a word of caution, Colonel. Capitán Monastario is using you. Most likely he will prey upon your nostalgic feelings of comradeship towards him to do harm to the very people that you are finding are the soul and conscience of Los Angeles."**

**"I'm not newborn to the woods, Señor Zorro," responded the Irishman impatiently. "You are not telling me what I don't already know and what others have said as well."**

**"I mean no disrespect, Colonel, " El Zorro replied. "Capitán Monastario manages to find snares to entrap all sorts of men to do deeds that will enhance his own power over the pueblo. That power is not meant to improve the lives of Californians, but to advance his own stranglehold over this pueblo. He wants to be a feudal prince, lording over the lives and property of its inhabitants. And his model of a prince is Machiavelli or the Borgias, not El Cid."**

**"Don't you think that's a wee bit harsh?" asked O' Leary. "To be a Machiavelli one must have the power of the state built upon an apparatus of followers with the same lack of principles. Monastario may be a petty tyrant, but he is no Machiavelli."**

**El Zorro's continence became serious. "Colonel, where did Machiavelli get his start?"**

**With that, he whirled his horse about. "Until we meet again, Señor!" The black stallion retraced his steps up to the top of the hill. At the top of the hill, the rider paused and, looking down toward the solitary rider on the dirt road below, reared the horse up and waved farewell before disappearing over the hill.**

**The Irishman hesitated only a moment. He spurred his horse in pursuit of the rider, up the hill, over the tall, dry grasses, until he reached the top. From that point he looked down into a myriad of valleys, dry arroyos, and dense trees. Of the mysterious rider, there was no sign. _Now, where the devil could he have disappeared to so quickly_? thought O' Leary.**

**The Irishman rode his mount cautiously for a good half an hour and scouted the land and woods for any sign of movement or sound. Only the howl of a solitary coyote from far away reached his ears. It was only when the winds began to whip up in the late night air carrying the scent of the dry grasses, that he opted to head back to the pueblo. _I'll come back again on the morrow_ , he decided. _I will follow his trail from here, and then we will see where it leads to, Señor Zorro_.**

**************************************************************************

**Paddy O’ Leary returned to the inn. When he walked through the door, he saw Sergeant García and Corporal Reyes seated at a table. The corporal spotted him first and elbowed his companion. Both looked very hopeful. O’ Leary smiled to himself. After all the seriousness of the afternoon, he was looking forward to some lighter entertainment for the evening and the two soldiers might be able to provide it. He went right up to the table and made a show of looking them over carefully.**

**"Good evening, lads," he said genially. "Looks like you’ve got an empty bottle there."**

**García and Reyes put on a forlorn look. "Sí, Señor Colonel," replied García. "We’ve tried to make it last a long time, but there is not much in a bottle, for two soldiers, that is."**

**"I suppose that’s because you haven’t drunk enough toasts. Toasts make the bottle last longer."**

**"They do? What kind of toasts make the bottle last longer, Señor Colonel?" asked Reyes.**

**"Well, now, they’ve got to be the right kind of toasts. Should we give it a try, just to prove my point?" he asked and waved over a barmaid. García and Reyes nodded eagerly.**

**The Irishman filled each mug about half way and said, "Here’s the first toast: May we always have a clean shirt, a clean conscience, and a peso in the pocket."**

**García and Reyes looked at each other, nodded and drank. Half of the wine was gone already. They looked at each other again doubting the Irishman’s claim.**

**"You know, lads," O’ Leary said in a confidential tone. "It’s a narrow neck that keeps the bottle from being emptied in one swig."**

**"So that’s why they make bottles like that," commented Reyes.**

**"It’s the wisdom of the Little People," remarked O’Leary.**

**"The ‘Little People?’ Who are they?" asked García looking puzzled.**

**"You mean to tell me that you never heard tell of the Little People?" asked the Irishman feigning astonishment. "I don’t know anyone who doesn’t know of them." He gave Reyes a challenging look. "How about you, Corporal?"**

**"Uh, I don’t know anything about them, Colonel," Reyes admitted. "Are they, perhaps, midgets?"**

**"Oooooh," groaned the red-haired man. "You lads need to be initiated into the magical world of the Little People. Who are they, you ask? Why, there is no one like them in all the world. They are the mischief makers, the harbingers of good and ill, and those that can grant you a pot of gold under the rainbow, if you happen to catch one."**

**"A pot of gold? Under a rainbow?" García asked in amazement.**

**"How do you catch one?" asked Reyes.**

**"Well, now, you have to be clever and quick," O’Leary told them. "Now, I’ve never caught one me self, but I can tell you about a man who did."**

**"How did he catch him?" asked the big sergeant. He had almost forgotten to take a drink of his wine.**

**"Now, listen well, and I’ll tell you how, " began the Irishman. "There was a red-haired shoemaker named Jack. Now one fine day, Jack was crossing the marsh late in the afternoon to take a shortcut home when he heard a strange sound, like a little ‘plink, plink, plink’ coming from a dry spot he saw right around the bend of the marsh reeds."**

**"What was the sound?" asked Reyes, full of apprehension.**

**"Why it sounded just like a shoemaker hitting a nail with his hammer. But, in the middle of a marsh? And do you know what happened next?"**

**Both soldiers shook their heads.**

**"Why he smelled the strong odor of tobacco on the air. Jack carefully crept around the reeds to see where it was coming from and lo, and behold, there he sees one of the Little People, a little man sitting on the stump of a willow tree. And he was dressed in black breeches, bright red stockings, a green frock and one of those three-cornered hats."**

**"What happened next?" asks Reyes as García nodded with wide eyes.**

**"Why, he thinks to himself ‘Now you have to be quick to catch one of them and you can NEVER take your eyes off of them a single moment, not even for an instant. If you can catch one, why they would have to lead you to their hidden pots of gold. But, watch out now, they had a hundred tricks for making sure they cheated you and there are scores of stories about how the Little People escaped from the Big Folk – that’s us. But this one would not get away, Jack promised himself. He took a big breath and began to creep along the damp ground."**

**"Now normally, a Leprechaun could have heard anyone approaching, but that day it was very hot and he really wasn’t paying much attention to his surroundings in that he was plinking away with the shoe in his hand. So, you can bet your last peso that he got the fright of his life when he found that someone had grabbed him by the shoulders and shouted, "Oooh, I’ve got you now, Mr. Leprechaun! And I won’t let you go!"**

**"Now the Leprechaun, surprisingly, didn’t struggle or fight, or even appear to be too worried. ‘Aye, that you have indeed,’ says he. ‘Now, tell me, what you want from me?’**

**"The pot of gold!" interrupted García with relish.**

**"‘If it’s my crock of gold,’ said the little man, ‘then you’re out of luck. I was captured last week by one of your people and I had to give up my gold then. And we Leprechauns can only have one pot of gold in a lifetime.’"**

**Reyes and García looked disappointed. "What? No gold? What did Jack do next?" asked García.**

**"Well, Jack doesn’t believe him. You know how the Little People will lie about these things," explained O’Leary. "But the Leprechaun said, ‘Why should I lie to you? The Little People never lie, we just never tell the full truth. But we never tell a lie.’"**

**"’You mean to tell me that you have no gold, not even a little silver or even a copper or two?’ asks Jack.**

**"‘Nothing,’ says the Leprechaun.**

**"‘Well, then, what do you have?’ asked Jack. ‘I won’t let you go. You must know that I have some fairie blood in me, all red-haired people have fairie blood, so you won’t be able to escape me. Now, tell me, what can you pay me with?’"**

**"Well, with this," says the Little Man, wiggling one hand free and pulled a small leather bag off his shoulder. "I’ll give you this."**

**Now Jack looked at the bag. It was a small, square bag with a strap to go around the shoulder. With one free hand, he popped it open, but it was empty inside. Well, he didn’t refuse the gift just yet. After all, it was a Leprechaun’s bag and who knows, it might even be magical."**

**García and Reyes looked at each other. "Magical?" they asked.**

**"Aye, magical. So, Jack is no fool and he asks, ‘What’s so special about this bag? The Leprechaun gives him a crooked look and says, ‘Well now, I’ll tell you. This just _looks_ like a small bag, but it grows. The more you put in it, the more space it has in it. You could put a table in there, chairs, even a bed! I’m telling you the truth,’ he added."**

**So Jack decides to take the bag, but pops it over the head of the Leprechaun. All of the sudden the bag grew and grew and grew, until the little man was completely inside of it. ‘Now do you believe me?’ asks the Leprechaun.**

**So Jack decides to believe him and gives the Little Man his freedom in exchange for the bag. The Leprechaun looks at him thanks him and bids him a safe trip across the marsh. Then, in a flash, he disappears. Jack pulls his coat around him and continues to cross the marsh. One of these days, we need someone to guide a man across such a marsh so he won’t get lost, he mused.**

**"That’s all he got, a leather bag?" asked Reyes.**

**"No, stupid," García remarked to him. "A magical leather bag that grows."**

**"Now, it was many years later that Jack came to make use of that bag. At first he had done well as a shoemaker. But he made his shoes so well, that people did not come back for many years to get them repaired. There was one bad winter where he barely earned any money at all. He got in debt borrowing from his friends and he felt bad because he had always been an honest man and was eager to pay back his debts. But how could he?"**

**Reyes gave García a long look while Jack's virtues for paying back his debts were extolled, but García ignored him.**

**"One fine day Jack was sitting all depressed when a strange man came up to him. The man was dressed all in black – black overcoat, black stockings, black hat, shiny black shoes and a black hat. The man was very thin and was smoking a thin black cigar. The cigar smelled very bitter, more like brimstone than tobacco. He walked right up to Jack. He spoke Irish with a foreign accent. He also wore black gloves but with a thick gold ring on the outside of his little finger."**

**"’What can I do for you, Sir?’ asks Jack politely."**

**"'Oh, there’s nothing you can do for me, Jack’ says he, ‘but what I can do for you. It’s come to my notice that you are a bit short of money.’"**

**"’Oh, that,’ says Jack. ‘I pay my debts. It’s true I owe a few pounds here and there, but my business is picking up. I’m afraid I don’t know you, Sir. How is it that you know my name? I don’t believe you told me yours.'"**

**"‘No, I didn’t say," says the stranger. ‘But some people call me ‘Himself.’"**

**"‘An odd name’ thought Jack, but he was polite."**

**"‘Now I’ve come to make a bargain with you,’ said Himself."**

**"‘What kind of bargain?’ asks the shoemaker."**

**"‘Oh, only a small one,’ said the man in black. ‘It’s like this: I’ll offer you all the money you need. You’ll be the richest shoemaker in all of Ireland.’"**

**"‘Ooooh,’ says Jack, ‘now what is it going to cost me?’"**

**At that point, Corporal Reyes looked troubled. "I don’t think that’s a good idea, Sergeant."**

**"Shut up, stupid," said García eagerly. "He might make a good deal."**

**Reyes looked doubtful.**

**The colonel patiently waited until they had refocused their attention on him."Now the man in black was direct. ‘All you have to do is make me a promise,’ says he."**

**"‘What kind of promise?’ asks Jack."**

**"‘In seven years time, you will come with me, no questions asked,’ says Himself."**

**"Jack noticed that Himself had very red eyes. ‘Where will we go?’"**

**"‘No questions,’ said the man in black."**

**"‘Hmm,’ says Jack. ‘Can I have some time to think about this?’"**

**"‘You have to understand that I don’t make this offer too often and only to special people,’ says Himself. ‘And you see, I have to catch a diligence to Dublin fairly soon, so make up your mind.’"**

**"‘All right,’ says Jack. ‘I’ll do it.’"**

**"And so the deed was done. The man in black reached inside his coat and pulled out a sack of gold and gave it to Jack. ‘You have all the money you need and you will never want for business,’ he said. Thus, saying this, he walked quickly away and disappeared down the road."**

**"Now it so happens that what Himself told Jack was true. In time, he moved from his little cottage into a nice house, he saved his money, paid all his bills and soon was eyeing a local girl to ask to marry. Then, he realized that seven years had passed by very quickly.**

**"One day a man came to call. He was dressed all in black. He asked the maid if Jack were in. She said he was and whom should I ask is calling. ‘Tell him it is ‘Himself,’ says he."**

**"Uh, oh," said Reyes. He actually looked nervous. "What happened next?"**

**"Now Jack knows who it is and he’s not going to argue. He went to see him right away. That pleased Himself very much. ‘Let’s go right now,’ says he."**

**"So Jack says, ‘I’m ready. I’ve packed me bag and am ready to go.’"**

**"‘You won’t need any bag where you are going,’ says the man in black with a grin."**

**"‘I don’t go nowhere without my bag,’ said Jack. ‘Everything I need is in it.’"**

**"Now, Himself got curious. ‘What’s in the bag?’ he asked."**

**"‘Oh, I can’t tell you. Lots of things,’ said Jack."**

**"‘You can’t fit much in that small bag,’ said Himself mockingly."**

**"‘It holds plenty for me,’ said Jack."**

**"‘Well, let me see,’ said the man in black."**

**"‘Nope,’ says Jack."**

**"‘Well, why not?’ asked Himself. ‘It really won’t hurt to see, will it?’"**

**"‘Well, all right,’ says Jack. ‘It won’t.’ He knelt down and opened the bag. Himself looked in. ‘Why, it’s empty,’ he said."**

**"‘No, it’s not,’ said Jack."**

**"‘Why yes it is,’ insisted Himself."**

**"‘Are you sure?’ asked Jack. ‘Take a real close look.’"**

**"So, Himself leaned way over as Jack held the sides of the bag open, and in a flash Jack pulled the bag over the head of the stranger. The bag grew and grew and grew. In an instant it had swallowed up Himself! He snapped it shut as quickly as he could."**

**García and Reyes looked at each other in amazement and then back at the colonel. "What happened next?" they asked in unison.**

**The colonel smiled. He poured out more wine in their mugs, but not too much because they had barely drunk what he first poured them.**

**"Now Jack danced a little Irish jig as he watched the bag wiggle back and forth. ‘Let me out of here,’ he heard Himself say."**

**"‘Not until you give me back my promise,’ said Jack."**

**"‘No!’ said the voice in the bag."**

**"Now, Jack’s first thought was to go get help from the priest. But on his way to the church, he passed by a neighbor, Farmer O’Neill. O’Neill and his two sons were threshing corn with flails, which are like whips."**

**"‘Good morning to you,’ calls out Jack."**

**"'And a good morning to you,’ says O’Neill. ‘What do you have there?’"**

**"‘A bag of hard leather,’ says Jack. ‘I need to get it softened.’"**

**"‘And how will you do that?’ asked the farmer."**

**"‘Well, I was hoping that I might get it beaten,’ explained Jack. ‘Only I can’t take it out of the bag or the surface might get torn from the force of the flails.’"**

**"‘Well, ‘ says O’Neill, ‘my sons and I could beat it from the outside and make it all soft for you.’ So, Jack says fine, and the farmer said ‘Stand back,’ and with that he and his sons beat the bag until it became all nice and soft from the feel of it. They must have pounded on it an hour and a half. By then it was limp and fine."**

**García and Reyes grinned at that.**

**"Now Jack flips them a coin and thanks them heartily for all their fine work. The farmer and his son were pleased. But Jack and not yet finished. He threw the bag over his shoulder and proceeded to the local foundry."**

**"At the foundry worked three of the Tully brothers. When Jack came up, they greeted him and asked him what he was about. Jack told them that he had a bag full of hard leather that he needed softened up. They remembered that he had made some fine gloves for them once and good shoes, so they were obliging enough."**

**"Once again, he explained he could not take it out of the bag for fearing that the surface might get marred. And once again, he found three willing workmen who were more than happy to beat the bag for all they were worth with their blacksmith hammers. They did so for three hours and were amazed that the bag showed no damage, but it certainly was soft when they finished. They wanted to buy it from him, but Jack turned them down. ‘I’ve had it too many years to sell,’ he said. ‘And it’s special.’"**

**"Jack had one more stop along the way to church. He stopped in on the miller, Mr. Delaney, an old friend. Now Delaney had a grand mill and he made all the bread in the town and for some of the nearby towns as well. It had huge grinding stones.**

**"Now Jack went up to the miller who asked him if he wanted to buy some bread. ‘Of course,’ said Jack, ‘but first could you do me a favor. You see, I have this hard leather inside this bag and it needs softening up a spell. Could you put it in your mill and turn it around a spell?'"**

**"‘But it might wreck your bag,’ said the miller."**

**"‘Oh, no. It’s a very strong bag, stronger than it looks.’"**

**"So the miller puts the bag on the wheel and the huge stone crushes it flat against the second stone. Then the huge stone rolled away, came back around and did the same thing again and again. An hour later, Delaney hands Jack the bag. ‘I’m surprised it’s not in shreds,’ says he handing the bag over."**

**"‘Well, I told you it was a special sort of bag,’ says Jack. And with that he throws the bag over his shoulder and sets off for home munching the warm loaf of bread. He decides to wait before going to see the priest. When he gets home, he sets the bag down and says to it, "I’ll let you out if our deal is off. Promise.’"**

**"There was a long pause. Finally the Devil says faintly, ‘I promise.’"**

**"So Jack opens the bag and shakes out Himself. The Devil looked very battered and bruised. His black clothes were covered with flour. He got up off his feet and shook his fist at the shoemaker. ‘You’re a terrible man. I wouldn’t even have you as a devil.’ And with that, there was a flash of blue light and he disappeared. Jack laughed a long time and then went home."**

**"So, he beat the devil," said García looking very pleased by the outcome.**

**But Reyes looked troubled. "Uh, Colonel, so what happens later?"**

**"Later? What do you mean by that, baboso?" interrupted García. "The story’s over."**

**"Well, now, García," said the colonel, "Corporal Reyes has a good point. And the story isn’t really over – yet."**

**"It’s not?" asked the sergeant looking puzzled.**

**"Yes, Sergeant," said Reyes. "You know, what happens later – when Jack gets old and it’s time for him to die? What happens then?"**

**"Ah, a very good question, Reyes?" says O’Leary. "You’ve got some good insight into the situation. So what happened then? I’ll tell you."**

**The Irishman picked up his mug and took his time with a few swallows. Then he smiled. "Now Jack lived to be a ripe old fellow. Why, he was ninety years old when he died. And wouldn’t you know it, he died and went to Hell – for after all, he had sold his soul to the Devil for all that gold and good fortune. The problem was that the Devil didn’t want him."**

**"Now Jack marches up to the gates of Hell itself – and the door is made from black marble with large silver bolts set in each side and a huge silver knocker on the front of it that is shaped in the form of a dragon’s head. And so Jack took a hold of it and knocks very loudly. For a long time nothing happened and then the door creaks open and he hears a voice saying, "Yes?" – and the voice was booming and echoing as if it came from a long distance away.**

**"’Well,’ says Jack, ‘I just died and here I am, so I suppose this is where I’ve got to come.’**

**At that, a dark figure steps into the doorway. He’s dressed all in black – why, he’s the tall, thin man with red eyes. Jack recognized him at once."**

**"It was the Devil, Himself," exclaimed Reyes excitedly.**

**"Aye, it was. So the Devil takes one look at him and says ‘You’re not coming in here – I remember what you did to me. You just run along and go to the other place.’ And with that, he slams the door shut.**

**"So, Jack takes off and comes back the way he came. Soon the road turns lighter – from dark to gray to light – and then he sees the white marble gate of Heaven in the distance. Well, the gate looks like the gate to Hell except that it was all white marble with gold bolts and studs and a gold knocker on it. So Jack takes a hold of the knocker and knocks very gently."**

**"The door was opened almost immediately by a tall, thin figure dressed in white. ‘Well?’ asks the Angel pleasantly."**

**"'I just died,’ explained Jack, ‘and, although I thought I went to hell, Himself wouldn’t take me and told me to come here.’"**

**"‘Oh, ‘ says the Angel, looking surprised. ‘I’ll have to check my books on this one. What’s your name?’"**

**"Jack told him. The Angel disappeared a few moments and returned with a large leather-bound book with gold clasps at the corners. He opens the books and runs his finger down the list until he found Jack’s name. ‘Hmmm, sold your soul to the Devil, did you? We can’t have you here.’"**

**"‘Well, I’ve already been there and they won’t have me,’ said Jack."**

**"‘You’ll just have to go back,’ says the Angel."**

**"‘He slammed the door in me face,’ pouted Jack."**

**"‘All right, ‘ says the Angel with a smile. ‘We can’t have you here, so we’ll just send you back elsewhere.’"**

**"‘Back elsewhere?’ asks Jack. ‘Back to where?’"**

**"‘Why back to Earth,’ says the Angel. ‘We’ll give you some penance to do for a few hundred years and maybe you’ll be able to come in here.’"**

**"‘Well, what will I have to do?’ he asks."**

**"‘You once said that there should be someone with a light to lead people across the dangerous marshes when it gets late.’"**

**"‘I said that?’ Jack mused. ‘I don’t remember saying anything like that.’ Then, he remembered the day the Leprechaun had given him the leather bag. ‘Oh, I remember it now.’"**

**"With that, the Angel closed the book with a thump. ‘So then, that is what you’ll do…’"**

**"And it is said that Jack still wanders this Earth. You can see him sometimes as he roams across the marshes with his lantern. The country people call his spirit 'Jack o’ the Lantern.'"**

**"Really?" asked García doubtfully. "I’ve heard of a story about marsh lights. Do you really think it is Jack wandering in there?"**

**"Of course, he is," said O’Leary, gesturing for anther bottle of wine. "But remember, this happened in Ireland, so that’s where Jack is. I don’t know about Spain or California."**

**"I don’t think we have anything like that here," said Reyes thoughtfully. "But it wouldn’t be a bad idea."**

**"We couldn’t have that here, Corporal," García said with authority. "There are no Leprechauns in California."**

**"Well, I don’t know about that, Sergeant," observed the Colonel. "They say that wherever there’s an Irishman, a Leprechaun is bound to show up. Just to bedevil us, of course. Maybe they come in with our luggage on the ships, like the mice."**

**Reyes’ eyes grew large. "Say, Sergeant, if you ever see a Leprechaun, you’ll now know what to do."**

**García rolled his eyes. "It’s better to know what to do when you see Himself!"**

**"And what is that, Sergeant?"**

**"Don’t talk to him at all! Go back to the barracks at once!"**  
  
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**[Chapter Eighteen](http://bookscape.net/authors/colonel18.htm)**  
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**[Chapter One](http://bookscape.net/authors/colonel1.htm)**  
**[Zorro Contents](http://bookscape.net/zorrocontents.htm)**  
**[Main Page](http://bookscape.net/index.htm)**


	17. The Irish Colonel

The Irish Colonel

_**The Irish Colonel**_

_**by**_

_**Eugene Craig**_  
  
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**DAY FOUR**

**Chapter 18**

**It was just before dawn that Paddy kissed his sleeping companion an early good-bye, dressed quietly, and headed out to explore the hills where he had encountered the mysterious outlaw, El Zorro. He knew the spot exactly because of the outcrops and the hills he had studied before returning to the pueblo.**

**As he rode up the hill to where El Zorro had waved a farewell, he noticed that there were many animal trails that passed through the meadow. Herds of deer, wild turkeys, perhaps even wild pigs would have come this way.**

**He followed the most recent signs of passage and discovered an almost dry arroyo where the animals came to drink water at night. With the bed of the arroyo still flowing, it would be easy to lose the prints of even a shod animal. He followed a trail that seemed to pitter out among rocks, and then re-appear. There was nothing conclusive.**

**As he rode up through a pass, he saw a narrow canyon and began to make his way cautiously along it. He doubted if El Zorro would be anywhere nearby, but getting to know the land and where the trails went could lead to all sorts of discoveries. Then he saw the hoof marks he sought through the light layer of clay and sandy soil. O'Leary followed it further and then saw why his search would be in vain. Up ahead, grazing in the narrow canyon was a small herd of wild mustangs. Any passage from the night before would have been obliterated by their hooves. But there might be something on the other side. He made his way carefully toward the horses.**

**A brown stallion lifted his head and neighed a warning to his brood. Like a snap of a whip, the horses lifted their heads up, then bolted, racing their way through the narrow rocks. Brush, small growing trees seemed to grow in profusion as he followed them. Small meadows opened up, then seemed to close in again. He would seek the high ground in order to get a better sense of his surroundings.**

**It was several hours later that O' Leary headed back toward the road he had set out from. From the high rocks he had overlooked a profusion of canyons and meadows, gorges and hills. In the wider valley he spotted the great herds of cattle that were the fortune of the rancheros. Along trails, wide or narrow, he had come across box canyons and unexpected streams and rock formations that could have caves in them. There's a thousand places this Zorro could hide out, he thought, or use to get back to wherever he goes.**

**As he reached the road, he came to a halt. "Of course, that's it," he said aloud. "This is just an escape route, one of many. The man must have several such routes and would most likely chose ones that would mislead anyone trying to track him down." He urged his mount forward. It was mid-morning already and he would barely have time enough to wash up and look his best for Padre Felipe's charity auction. In the meantime, he would do his best to get to know as many people as possible _. Obviously, enough people knew of my movements that the word must have gotten out to El Zorro for him to have followed me back from the Torres' place. But I told no one that I was going there. Maybe the fellow had, as Monastario said, the devil's own luck_. But he really didn't believe it.**

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**"Do you know something, Sergeant?" asked Corporal Reyes as he stood on guard duty in front of the cuartel.**

**"Yes, Corporal, I know something. What is it that you want to know?" the Sergeant responded.**

**"Well, I’ve been thinking." Reyes paused a long time and looked contemplative.**

**García looked impatient with how long the corporal was taking to express himself. "Well, what have you been thinking about, Corporal?"**

**"I’ve been thinking about how Colonel O’ Leary made that bottle last so long last night."**

**"I know what you mean," responded García thoughtfully. "It lasted a very long time."**

**"Do you think it was the toasts he told us, Sergeant? He told us that the toasts he knows make the bottle last a long time. And it did last a long time. It lasted until the end of the story he told us," the soldier said.**

**"Colonel O’ Leary has a way of making those things happen. I didn’t believe it either, but when he finished the story, my mug was half full and so was the bottle."**

**"Mine was too, Sergeant."**

**Both men were silent a moment. They did not know that Capitán Monastario had left his office and was headed towards the gate. Monastario stopped in his tracks when he overheard the conversation going on just outside the cuartel gates.**

**Reyes asked, "Say, Sergeant, do you think that the colonel might know some magic himself? I mean, when he told us the story about Jack and the Little People, he said that Jack with the red hair had some fairie blood in him. He said that people with red hair have fairie blood. Do you think that the colonel might have some fairie blood in him, too?"**

**García looked confounded a moment. "Fairie blood?" Then he paused a moment. "You may have a point there, Corporal. He’s probably too modest to mention it, being a colonel." The big man then reconsidered the idea." You know, I think you might be right after all. Colonel O’ Leary might even be magical himself. He always has plenty of coins for wine even though his purse never seems to have more than a few pesos in it."**

**Monastario rolled his eyes and shook his head in exasperation. He startled the two soldiers, who sprang to attention as he passed. "Idiots! Estupidos!" he exclaimed. "The only thing magical about Colonel O’ Leary is his fingers – he’s the most clever pickpocket in all of Los Angeles!"**

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**The plaza just opposite the church was teeming with people setting up little wooden stalls or tables to display their wares. Gourds, hanging from twine ropes, were decorated with faces, geometric or scenic designs painted or carved on them. Homemade pottery and handicrafts, shawls, jewelry, wooden toys, hats, flowers, old books, embroidery, leather goods, tallow candles of all sizes and shapes, soaps, scents, and religious mementos all made of items saved or made for the Church's charity auction. Last, but not least, were homemade confections, necklaces made from seeds or shells or even silver and an old musical instrument or two.**

**Padre Felipe made his rounds to the tables, greeting the townsfolk, smiling and chatting with the elderly, the children, and Indians who milled about. He noticed that most people seemed to be looking and wandered from table to table. But on the other hand, there was a crowd beginning to gather at one end. Then, he heard the strains of a guitar being tuned and then played. A popular, although somewhat risqué, piece, he thought, for a church auction. With some small consternation, he hurried over.**

**At the center of the crowd, seated in a chair next to the elderly widower Señor Escobedo, was a man dressed in a green ranchero's outfit, black hat and red sash. The sash matched the color of his hair.**

**Patrick O' Leary finished the song of only two verses and called to the crowd, "This guitar may be old, but as you can see, it is finely tuned and plays an excellent song or two, even with me help. I've heard someone offer three pesos for this, but you can see that it is obviously worth much more. Who would not want such a fine instrument, an instrument with an even finer history? Now, how many of you know that my friend and yours, the distinguished Señor José Mario Escobedo, played this very guitar at the court of Spain in the days of old King Carlos? This was the very guitar that soothed the ears of this most outstanding of Spanish monarchs, his family and our current most gracious Highness, Ferdinand VII, Heaven bless him. This fine instrument could be handed down from each generation to the next, knowing its unique and proud history. Now, do I hear a bid for twenty pesos?"**

**Several rancheros in the crowd were obviously impressed with the history of the guitar, its obvious beauty, and sound quality. They began bidding against each other. By the time Don Leon Santos walked away with a satisfied smile on his face, the price of the guitar had brought an astounding one hundred and fifty pesos.**

**The gray-haired musician could hardly contain himself when the padre asked him about his incredible sacrifice of so worthy an instrument. "I don't really remember whether I was there or not, Father, but it must be true. And such a prize for the Church as well." By then, Felipe had forgotten all about the risqué tune that had attracted the crowd to the musician's table to begin with.**

**The padre also noticed a group of men sitting in chairs and chatting with each other. Around them were gathering a group of men and women. "Good morning, Padre Felipe," they greeted him as he strode over.**

**"Are you tired already from the heat?" he asked them.**

**"Oh, no, Señor, " one answered. "We are just waiting for Colonel O' Leary to join our group for the contest."**

**"Contest? What contest?" asked Felipe.**

**"Jokes," answered the peon, Jesús, with a grin.**

**"Jokes?" the priest was puzzled.**

**"Each of us tells jokes and the ones that the crowd laughs at the most, wins."**

**"Oh," pondered the padre. "How does that contribute to charity?"**

**The coach driver, González, standing behind Jesús, answered. "Anybody can tell a joke, Padre. You pay five centavos to contribute a joke. We, of course, encourage anyone in the crowd to show their appreciation of a good joke by also contributing five or ten centavos. It all goes to the Church."** ****

**"What a good idea. Who thought of that?"** ****

**"Colonel O' Leary," answered Jesús. "I'm too poor to contribute any item for the church charity, but I can contribute some jokes. And five centavos is something I can afford. If I can contribute this way, it makes me very happy."**

**"I see," responded Felipe. "Ah-hem, I would just like to remind you that this is a church auction, so please watch your language."**

**"Now, Holy Father," said a familiar voice behind him. "I think that you've nothing to worry about."**

**Padre Felipe turned and beheld the red-haired Irishman who had a twinkle in his eye. "Hmm," responded the priest. "Since you've organized this affair, are you going to be the first to tell a joke?" Felipe thought it would be interesting to catch the colonel off guard, but the Irishman turned to the group of men.**

**"Señores, I would like to reassure the Holy Father that our jokes are of the most genteel and honest nature. If nobody minds, I'll be glad to do the first one. Then you gentlemen," he turned to the seated men, "will just take it from there." The padre didn't see him wink at them.**

**"All right, Colonel, tell your joke," said Felipe.** ****

**O' Leary turned to the crowd. "It's an Irish joke, of course: What's the difference between an Irish wedding and an Irish wake?" He paused for effect. "One less drunk at the wake."**

**Even Felipe laughed at that one, shook his head and continued his inspection. He found a line-up of girls of all ages who recited poetry, their parents proudly looking on, and tables of home baked goods. A few people even offered kittens, puppies and chicks for sale as well.**

**Felipe was about to head back over to the ladies selling their confections when he noticed a line of men at a tent. _Now, I wonder what this could be_. He smiled at the men in line and peeked around the corner of the tent. Inside he saw Rosita Flores seated in an elevated chair. On a small table next to her were two boxes. The one in front was labeled "donated to the church auction." She was putting a peso coin in it. While Padre Felipe actually did not approve of the kind of dancing she did, he was pleased to see her participating. He gave a little wave and she gave him her most charming smile. After he turned his back and left, she said to the man standing in front of her, "Well, it is fifty centavos for one kiss and one peso for three kisses."**

*************************************************************************

**The colonel made it his business to go to all the stands and tables. If an object had not been sold, he made it his business to see that it was. If there was still food on the table, he gave away samples and helped to sell the rest. His name was on the tip of many tongues – from the women who sold homemade goods to the seniors relaxing in chairs.** ****

**While heading over into the shade he spotted the merchant’s wife. "Good afternoon, Señora Cárdenas," he greeted her. "A lovely day it is."**

**The plump woman looked up from the table and smiled. "Good afternoon, Colonel O’ Leary. My, isn’t this the largest auction that Padre Felipe has ever had? So many people are here. I don’t think the last auction was nearly so large."**

**"And how is the young lad? Is he not here as well?" he asked her.**

**She pointed to a table a bit further away. "He must be inspecting Señor Troya’s carved toys. Some of them are very clever."**

**"Ah, by-the-by, I should be coming by your shop again on Monday. Perhaps your husband could recommend a gift for a gentleman?" he inquired.**

**The woman’s face clouded a bit. She sighed. "I’m the bearer of bad news on that account," she said in a sad voice. "Roberto has to leave. It was unexpected – for me. I think, well, perhaps I shouldn’t say this, but I think something is wrong. It might have to do with some merchandise he ordered, but I’m not sure. He’s been acting very strange lately."**

**O’ Leary caught her distress at once. His voice became softer and he expressed concern. "I do hope that it is nothing too serious," he responded. "If there is any way I can help you out at the store, please let me know. I’m sure I could sweep the floor or carry something heavy if you need it moved."**

**"That’s more than kind of you, Señor. For now, my sister and I can probably manage. I hope Roberto won’t be gone for too long," she said, trying to end on a hopeful note. She paused. "It’s just that this has never happened before and I’m just a little upset by it, that’s all," she confessed.**

**"I’m sure everything will work out just fine," he reassured her. "If you and your sister can manage me as a customer, then you have nothing further to worry about."**

**She smiled just as he hoped she would. He nodded. "Tell Pedro I said ‘hello.’ I’m sure he’s having a bit of fun over at Señor Troya’s." With that the colonel headed over to Rosita’s tent.**

********************************************************************** ****

**It was mid-afternoon when the charity auction ended. The ladies, the dancer, the men who told jokes, the handicraft sellers, the girls who had memorized all the poetry, the balladeers, and the small merchants who had donated items all descended upon a red-haired man who sat at a table and was adding up all the funds. There was a can of coins here, a pile there, a box next to it, and several people just emptied their pockets out.**

**A small crowd gathered and talked while the colonel wrote down items sold and the sums they brought. The colonel embellished the event by announcing the largest sums collected in various categories, such as home-cooked food, jokes, musical instruments, handicrafts, and general donations. Then there were the beverages sold, the animals auctioned off, and produce.**

**When he finished he presented the padre with a sack of the collected monies and the ledger he wrote up. The Franciscan’s eyes lit up when he felt the weight of the sack.**

**He turned to the small crowd. "Never before has there been such a turnout to show our love for our poorer brethren," he announced. "I think that we owe Colonel O’ Leary a big thanks for all his help that contributed to the success of this event." There was a general nodding of heads.**

**The red-haired man held up a hand. "Now, Holy Father, I would like to give credit to where it is really due, and that is to all the fine people who showed up this day and donated their time and goods to the cause of Mother Church. We also need to thank all the fine members of the community who showed up and enjoyed this event in the spirit in which it was conducted. The combination of both kind of charities made this event the success it was, not the colonel." He smiled and turned to the crowd. "And a special thanks to the ladies for all their fine cooking and wares and to the children for their grand poetry and songs. I don’t think I’ve had such a fine time in quite a while myself. Now I remember once we stopped at a fair in Madrid, and you wouldn’t believe the sights we saw there – puppet shows, dancing bears and pigs, and a ring from the hand of Merlin the Wizard himself…."** ****

**The crowd didn’t depart for another hour.**  
  
---  
  
**[Chapter Nineteen](http://bookscape.net/authors/colonel19.htm)**  
---  
**[Chapter One](http://bookscape.net/authors/colonel1.htm)**  
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	18. The Irish Colonel

The Irish Colonel

_**The Irish Colonel**_

_**by**_

_**Eugene Craig**_  
  
---  
  
****

**DAY FOUR**

**Chapter 19**

**Paddy sat in the tavern at a table by himself. He was feeling very content because of how well the charity auction had gone and all the money that had been raised for the church. And he didn’t do too bad himself. Neither did Rosita.**

**Padre Felipe had been astonished at the amount of money that he presented him with at the end of the day. He praised the colonel for all his innovative ideas for entertainment and his help in encouraging all sorts of townspeople to participate. There had not only been the joke contest, the children’s presentations, and the baked goods sales, but the vaqueros had come along and shown their talents with lassoing. They got a lot of laughs by roping Sergeant García unawares as he made off with some food.** ****

**Padre Felipe told him that even Capitán Monastario had walked out of the cuartel and had watched the auction dispassionately and aloof from the multitudes until he noticed someone waving and calling to him from a tent. It must have been Rosita Flores, the dancer, thought the priest.** ****

**What happened? O’ Leary had asked him. Well, the priest said, the officer went into the tent with a serious look on his face and left with a smile, so she probably sweet-talked him out of a peso, he told the colonel. O’Leary only smiled at that _. It’s probably the first kiss he’s gotten in years_ , he mused.** ****

**The colonel poured himself some more wine and began to sing. It’s kind of lonely not having any one around who knows the song, he thought briefly:**

**Well, we fought for Ireland’s glory there**

**And many a man did fall**

**From musket and from bayonet**

**From thundering cannon ball**

**And many a foe did we lay low**

**Amid the battleground**

**And as we prepared for action**

**You would often hear the sound….**

**O’Leary broke off his song when Sergeant García plopped down in a chair opposite him uninvited. He had a big smile on his face. "Ah, Señor Colonel, are you all by yourself?"**

**"Sometimes a man likes to be by himself," O’ Leary muttered under his breath.**

**Corporal Reyes walked up and saluted the colonel, then stooped and whispered in García’s ear. "Sergeant, I think the colonel would like to drink alone."**

**García waved the corporal aside as if he was a pesky fly. The corporal shrugged and began to walk off. O’ Leary caught him by the arm. "Ah, Corporal Reyes - a knight errant in the company of Sergeant García." He smiled. The thought put him in a better mood.**

**"Now that there are two of you here, I won’t mind sharing a drop of the vintage at all."**

**García watched the barmaid bring the mugs and another bottle of wine. "Thank you, Colonel O’ Leary. You have very good taste in wine."**

**"Pardon me, Colonel," began Reyes. "I heard the song you were singing when we came in. It’s an Irish song, isn’t it?"**

**"Yes, Reyes, it is. Did you like it?"**

**"Yes," the corporal answered. "I like all the songs you sing. They’re very, well, inspiring."**

**"Why, thank you, Corporal," responded the Irishman, perking up a bit. "You know, we have many great songs like that, but then, we also have some sad love songs, ones that make me a bit homesick, too." O’ Leary began to sing:**

**As I went a-walkin and a-ramblin’ one day**

**I spied a young couple, so fondly did stray**

**And one was a young maid so sweet and so fair**

**And the other one was a soldier and a brave grenadier.**

**And they kissed so sweet and comfortin’**

**As they clung to each other**

**They went arm and arm down the road**

**Like sister and brother**

**They went arm and arm down the road**

**Till they came to a stream**

**And they both sat down together, love,**

**To hear the nightingale sing.**

**And out of his knapsack he drew a fine fiddle**

**And he played her such merry tunes you ever did hear**

**And he played her such merry tunes the valleys did ring**

**Softly cried the fair maid, "Hear the nightingale sing."**

**Well, now, says the fair maid, will you marry me**

**Oh, no, says the soldier, how ever can that be?**

**For I’ve me own wife at home in me own country**

**And she is the fairest little thing that you ever did see.**

**And they kissed so sweet and comfortin**

**As they clung to each other**

**They went arm-and-arm down the road**

**Like sister and brother**

**They went arm and arm down the road**

**Till they came to a stream**

**And they both sat down together, love,**

**To hear the nightingale sing."**

**Both soldiers heaved a sigh when he finished. O’ Leary smiled, but suddenly appeared concerned. Reyes looked like he was ready to weep.**

**"Are you all right, lad?" he asked laying a hand on Reyes’ arm.**

**Reyes was sentimental. "Colonel, that song makes me feel like I want to cry."**

**"You can’t cry, Corporal," García told him gruffly.**

**"Why not, Sergeant?"**

**"You can’t cry, baboso, because you are a soldier. Soldiers are not supposed to cry, that’s why."**

**"I don’t know, Sergeant. I think it’s all right to cry if you have a good reason to," sniffed the corporal.**

**"And do you have a good reason to?" García retorted, not very sympathetically.**

**"Not right now, Sergeant," Reyes replied.**

**Paddy enjoyed their exchange. "It’s a bittersweet song," he told them, "like many of our songs." He changed the subject. "Say, are you lads a wee bit thirsty this afternoon?" Both of them nodded. "Ah, good, because I have something to ask you." He filled their mugs with wine right up to the brim. This brought big smiles from the two soldiers.**

**O’ Leary then leaned across the table and moved the bottle closer to their mugs.**

**"Everywhere I go, I hear about this Zorro fellow. What can you lads tell me about him? Do flames dart from his fingers? Does he really ride a horse with wings?"** ****

**Sergeant Garcia looked very eager. He raised a finger each time O’ Leary made a point.**

**"Señor Colonel, I have met El Zorro myself!"**

**"Have you now?" asked the colonel. "And where did you happen to meet him?"**

**"Well, Zorro has come to the cuartel and we have also chased him. As a matter of fact, he barely escaped from me on several occasions," García replied, with some bravado.**

**"Just a minute, Sergeant," Reyes interrupted. "There was the time that Zorro knocked you off your horse. And then there was the time he pushed you down a well, and then the time, when you lost your sword after he knocked it out of your hand."**

**"Corporal!" responded García in a very annoyed tone of voice, "you are missing the point!"**

**"And what is the point?" asked O’ Leary with an extremely amused look on his face, which obviously irritated the sergeant who was trying to make a good impression.**

**"The point is that I met El Zorro!" García then took a long drink of wine.**

**"Tell me, Sergeant, has this Zorro claimed many victims?" asked the Irishman. "How many soldiers have died because of his raids?"**

**The two soldiers looked dumbfounded at his question. They looked at each other and then back to the colonel who was not expecting such a reaction.**

**"Why, nobody has died," replied Garcia in a puzzled tone of voice. "Zorro doesn’t kill anyone, he just shows up to see that justice is done and makes his point – with his sword." He laughed at his own joke.**

**"You mean to tell me that he has not killed anyone at all?" asked O’ Leary. He thought a moment. "He must not be very effective, after all. Just a hit and run fellow."**

**"Oh, no!" García and Reyes declared in unison. García continued with relish. "Colonel O’ Leary, you do not understand. Zorro, he is the best swordsman. He beats Monastario all the time and warns him to beware of being a tyrant."**

**"You mean to say that he’s had Monastario at sword point and never has tried to dispatch him?" Paddy asked in astonishment.**

**"Well, yes, I mean, no" said García. "You see, you don’t understand Zorro. He will not kill anyone because he probably thinks that, to do so, he would be no better than the capitán. The comandante would have no such hesitation. It makes the comandante mad to think that Zorro has such sport with him, but Monastario is outwitted."**

**"All the time, Señor Colonel," nodded Reyes. The two soldiers were enjoying the fact.**

**For once the Irishman was lost for words. "The cat’s got your tongue, lad," O’ Leary mused, talking more to himself than to his companions. "Now isn’t that the devil." He started drinking wine, poured himself out some more and looked lost in thought.**

**The sergeant and corporal looked at each other and back to the colonel. Finally, the colonel looked at the bottle, looked at their mugs and emptied the rest of it into them.**

**"Uh, Colonel?" began García. "Are you all right?"**

**"Another bottle, lads?" he responded absent-mindedly. _This is most interesting, and it puts a new light on things. This Zorro is a pretty deep character, setting a moral example, not a tyrannical one. He values people’s lives, even Monastario’s life_.**

**He looked up at García, "Does this Zorro fellow think that he can reform Monastario?"**

**"Well, I don’t think so," said García. "He just wants to let the comandante know that he will not get away with injustice for very long. Zorro saves lives. He’s even saved ** _my_** life. Señor Colonel, Zorro has not even allowed others to take Monastario’s life."**

**"Christ Jesus, he almost sounds like a priest," commented O’Leary, "except he would seem too young to be one. Such an outlook on life." The colonel started to look around for another bottle. "Ah, García, the bottle’s empty. Why don’t you buy the next bottle?"**

**García reacted in dismay. Reyes looked at him and then said to the Irishman, "The sergeant never has money, Señor Colonel. I usually buy the wine."**

**"That’s not true, Corporal. I have bought wine – many times," García reacted belligerently."Why are you trying to make me look bad to the colonel? As a matter of fact, I will buy a bottle right now!" The big man got up and went to the bar in a huff.**

**"The sergeant borrowed three pesos from me today, Señor Colonel," Reyes whispered to O’Leary. "So, you might say that I’m buying the bottle."**

**"I would say that you are right, Reyes," responded O’ Leary, watching the sergeant order a bottle. "Since I borrowed three pesos from Garcia just yesterday," he lied, "and he owes you three pesos today, why I don’t I just give you the three pesos now? That way we avoid the middle man."**

**Reyes looked surprised and pleased to get the pesos. He put them in his coin purse in a hurry before Garcia could turn around with the bottle. O’Leary didn’t like to see the honest corporal taken advantage of time and time again.**

**García walked over to the table with the bottle and had just sat down when the door to the inn opened and Capitán Monastario entered the room. He looked over and saw O’Leary at a table with the two soldiers. He strode over and came to a halt at the table.**

**Corporal Reyes stood up and saluted him. García had his hand around the bottle and looked up. The bearded captain nodded at the corporal and looked down at the sergeant.**

**"You may go now, García," he said. The big man gave a forlorn look at the colonel and got up. He began to take the bottle with him when the officer said, "Leave the bottle. I’m sure that Colonel O’ Leary has bought you plenty already."**

**"But I just….." began the sergeant.**

**"Don’t argue with me, baboso," barked the officer. "Just do as you are told."**

**O’ Leary watched the scene with no _expression on his face. _You have a sure-fired way of making friends and creating loyalties, don’t you, Enrique_? he thought to himself. _Christ Jesus, couldn’t the man understand anything?_**

**After watching the soldiers move up to the bar, the captain turned back to the red-haired man at the table. "I hope I am not intruding, Colonel?"**

**"Won't you have a seat, Enrique?" he responded in a friendly tone. "What can I do for you?"**

**The officer removed his hat and gave O' Leary a knowing look. The barmaid came over and placed a mug in front of the captain as if on cue. O' Leary began to pour from the new bottle, but only gave the captain half a cup.**

**"Thank you, Colonel. That is enough," began Monastario. He tipped his glass to O' Leary.**

**"Here’s to absent friends and here’s twice to absent enemies," the Irishman proposed.**

**Monastario drank. "A good toast," he commented, putting his glass down. He leaned over towards the red-haired man and said in a low voice. "I told you just the other day that I am planning a trap for our 'absent enemy,' Zorro. Sometimes the lure needs to be a provocation if the beast does not come to the trap voluntarily."**

**"I would prefer to hear about your plan later, if you don't mind, Capitán," said Paddy. "I've really had too much to drink this afternoon to appreciate its subtlety. But, I would like to offer you something that will help the situation here, a unique opportunity."**

**Monastario looked interested. "And what is this opportunity, Colonel?"**

**"I think that it is at least as meritorious as yours is," began the Irishman. "I hope you won't mind my being very frank with you. It's out of our old friendship, you understand."**

**"Proceed," responded the captain patiently.**

**"You are living in a self-imposed social cocoon, old friend, and you need to break out of it. You are too isolated. In order to be more effective, you need to become a known quantity. Now, I am attending a very important social event tonight. Many important rancheros and hacendados will be there. The event is held in my honor, Enrique, and I'd like to have my friends there, ** _all_** of my friends. Now there are a few details you need to know. My only requirements are these: One - you come to this event in the spirit it is given. Two - that you speak about nothing except your wartime experiences, the music, the stars, the decorations, the girls' pretty dresses, flowers. Do not speak of current political affairs or your current command or traitors. Three - be modest and praise other people as you mingle with them."**

**"Anything else, Colonel?" asked Monastario with a touch of sarcasm in his voice.**

**"Yes, don't consider this a lecture. Just consider a few facts. The townspeople here know nothing about you. You have been much too aloof. There will be some old veterans of the War of Liberation there and a few older ones from the early French wars. Once they understand what you have accomplished for Spain, they will start to sympathize more with your position. Then one or two, maybe more, will start to step forward and cooperate with your administration, especially concerning the issue of loyalty to the Crown. They don't need to love you, only to respect you."**

**Monastario took another sip of wine. He gave the colonel a long look. "I respectfully disagree, Colonel, although I recognize your good intentions in this matter. The people who count here already respect me, but they do so based on a respect for a strong man, not a weak one."**

**"Enrique, they fear you as a strongman, and they won't cooperate until they respect you more, not until they empathize more and see you as one of them. Now, this might not work with the non-veterans, but it will with those who served the same way we did, the older men. We must show a commonality of all veterans for the glory of Spain and the Spanish Empire. Let the old ones spout and learn from what they say. It will be a new beginning for you and there is no better time than the present."**

**Monastario considered and then said, "Very well, Colonel. Do you have any further orders?" He smiled.**

**"Capitán, enjoy yourself!"**  
  
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**[Chapter Twenty](http://bookscape.net/authors/colonel20.htm)**  
---  
**[Chapter One](http://bookscape.net/authors/colonel1.htm)**  
**[Zorro Contents](http://bookscape.net/zorrocontents.htm)**  
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	19. The Irish Colonel

The Irish Colonel

_**The Irish Colonel**_

_**by**_

_**Eugene Craig**_  
  
---  
  
****

**DAY FOUR**

**Chapter 20**

**The sun had just set in the evening sky when Paddy O’Leary arrived in an open carriage at the De la Vega hacienda. From the road, one could see the colorful streamers and paper lanterns that had been hung from the balconies and from tree to tree. His companions in the carriage had ceased their chattering when they spotted the festive decorations.**

**The colonel helped the widow, Señora de la Cruz, down from the carriage, presenting her cane to her as if it were a holy relic. He turned and offered a hand to Señora Cárdenas who was accompanied by her son, Pedro. Then there was the old musician Escobedo, and an even older man, a former lieutenant, Cuenca, who brushed his hand away. "I may be old, Colonel, but these legs still work."** ****

**O’ Leary smiled, "I only hope that if I ever reach your longevity, I will do as well as you do."** ****

**Alejandro de la Vega opened the door of the outer gate himself and greeted each of the guests as they came in, giving special attention to Señora de la Cruz who told him that, had it not been for the colonel, she probably would have not been able to make it. "It has been much too long, Doña María, since we had a fiesta here and it would not be the same without your presence," he replied. He turned to O’ Leary who was guiding Escobedo into the patio, "Ah, Colonel, the musicians and dancer arrived about a half an hour ago. It seems you managed to procure the latest talent in town. We discussed the details and everything has worked out smoothly."**

**The colonel smiled. "Don José should be an excellent judge of how well they perform," he responded, giving his elderly companion a squeeze on the arm. The old man beamed and nodded happily. He eagerly took a drink off a tray that Bernardo presented to him.**

**Carriages and riders began to arrive one by one, and then several at a time. Alejandro greeted each newcomer at the gate and exchanged words of welcome. The guitar players sat and strummed short melodies from time to time.** ****

**O’ Leary approached the don. "Where is your son, Diego, Don Alejandro? Will he not be here with us tonight?"**

**"Diego decided to ride in to town himself and help escort a few of our older friends out, Colonel. He thought your idea was a fine example to all of us," Alejandro began. "And here he is now." The bearded don walked out the gate again to greet the arriving guests.**

**Already the crowd inside was very animated. The dons, their ladies and children moved about, greeting each other, and partaking of the generous portions of food and drink. The Villa family, the Torres and the neighbors were there as well as the Alcalde of Los Angeles. The Martinez family brought along their visiting cousins from Monterey and the girls were very impressed with the local dons and their haciendas in the countryside.**

**Diego de la Vega kept staring at a small, mustachioed man who looked a little awkward and hung around the food table. He walked over to him. "Is that you, Corporal Reyes?" he asked in amazement.**

**"Oh, hello, Don Diego," the corporal responded. "Yes, it’s me."**

**Diego looked him over carefully. "I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in civilian clothes," he remarked. "You look very fine in your new outfit."**

**"Thank you, Don Diego," Reyes responded. "Colonel O’ Leary told me to just relax and enjoy being a civilian for a night. He even borrowed this new suit of clothes for me to wear. He said that probably no one would recognize me. I don’t think anyone else knows who I am."**

**"Is Sergeant García also here tonight?" asked Diego looking around.** ****

**"I don’t think so," replied Reyes. "He had unexpected guard duty tonight and the comandante told me that I did not have guard duty."**

**"Interesting," mused Diego. "Has he ever done that before?"**

**"I don’t think so."**

**Diego shook his head and turned as another visitor greeted him. More guests were arriving in their carriages and a few on horseback. The fiesta was already a glorious success in terms of the numbers of people in attendance. Couples began to dance.**

**Alejandro de la Vega was chatting with a group of friends when he did a double-take. He stared hard at a bearded young man in an expensive outfit, more like that of a prince, who strolled in through the gate and was greeted almost immediately by the Irishman who also looked surprised. O’ Leary approached Señora de la Cruz and a group of older ladies and introduced the man who bowed chivalrously and smiled. The ladies looked surprised, and also smiled, but their smiles were coolly polite. O’ Leary and the man exchanged the usual niceties with them and then approached a group of old war veterans. He introduced the newcomer. Both spent a long time talking to the men, who became more relaxed and animated. Alejandro looked around for Diego who was chatting with one of the Villa daughters. "Diego, I need to speak with you a moment." His tone was urgent.**

**Paddy O’ Leary finished his joke and put his hand on the man’s shoulder. "If you’ll excuse me, I think I just spotted someone I need to talk to," he said. All the men in the group nodded and turned back to speak with the newcomer.**

**He made his way to a small group of young women who were chatting. The object of his attention stood smiling and listening to the others. He came up alongside her. "Ah, Señorita Torres, good evening" the Irishman greeted her. He stood there a moment and looked her over carefully. "Now did you wear that Irish green dress just for me?"**

**Elena Torres gave him her most charming smile. "I had no idea that my dress was Irish green, Don Patricio," she responded. "But if you would like to think so, I won’t object."**

**The other young women stopped talking and giggled at her response.**

**Paddy found himself the center of attention and he didn’t mind it for one moment. "Ah, but it is, you know. And who are all these attractive ladies whom you’ve surrounded yourself with?"**

**Diego excused himself momentarily and joined his father. "What’s wrong, Father?" he asked.**

**"Did you see who walked through the gate not more than five minutes ago?" the don was indignant.**

**Diego twisted around, not seeing anything in particular wrong with the group. "Ah, no, Father, I have not seen anything unusual , unless you are referring to Corporal Reyes in civilian clothes." He chuckled. "Now, that is something to see."**

**"Diego, will you be serious for once? You mean to tell me that you did not see our greatest enemy come through the gate? And dressed like a prince of the Court of Spain! I would have never believed that he would ever come here to our house!" Alejandro replied furiously.**

**Diego looked around and spotted the object of his father’s wrath. The man had his back turned and some older men in the group were looking very interested in what he was saying. There was something familiar about the man, uncomfortably familiar – the dark hair, the slender build, the gestures. Then, it hit him. Diego moved several feet away to get a better view.**

**Alejandro followed him. "Now do you see what I mean?"**

**"I do indeed, Father," he said, but his tone was neutral.**

**"Well, what are we going to do about it?" Alejandro said taking his son’s elbow and turning him away so no one would notice their exchange.**

**"I don’t think there is much we can do at this point," Diego replied. "But if you would like, I’ll ask Paddy."**

**"That’s it. It must have been that blasted Irishman. I should have known. He would have invited him," Alejandro huffed.**

**"Just a minute, Father," Diego responded. "Why don’t you just let me ask first? I’ll let you know as soon as I can find out."**

**"And where did _he_ go?" Alejandro continued in the same vein.**

**Diego spotted the red-haired man without too much trouble. "Dancing with Señorita Torres." He paused. "Father, just let me handle this. I think that just acting natural at this point would be the best diplomacy." With that he walked away.**

**Don Alejandro thought his son was taking the incident much too lightly. "Diplomacy be damned," he muttered under his breath and turned away to continue mingling with his guests. He put a pleasant smile on his face as if nothing was wrong.**

**"What is that scent you are wearing tonight?" Paddy asked her as they whirled in a dance. "It reminds me of the rose gardens of Spain."**

**"It _is_ rose, Don Patricio," Elena Torres responded. "Don’t tell me that you only just noticed it now."**

**"I only just noticed it now," he replied. "It is subtle, but distinct. With the other ladies surrounding you, it was one scent in many."**

**"Is it your favorite scent?" she asked, but her tone indicated she expected him to say just that.**

**"It is not the scent so much as the lady wearing it. That makes the difference," the colonel replied with a smile. "And that is what makes it special."**

**Elena beamed in spite of herself. She liked his sophisticated answers. "You seem to know how to say the right thing to a girl, Don Patricio."**

**"Don’t I now?" he asked, with a twinkle in his eye. "And it’s how the stars are reflected in your eyes, and how the flowers seem brighter when you sit amongst them."** ****

*************************************************************************

**When the dance ended, Paddy O' Leary escorted Elena Torres over to the table with the punch bowl. After getting her a glass, he looked up. She sipped the drink and looked bemused. She noticed that his gaze went past her shoulder.**

**"Well, good evening, there," he said to someone who walked up behind her. She turned with a smile that immediately froze.**

**Enrique Monastario stood there, resplendent in the fine attire of the Court, and not in uniform at all. He bowed. "Good evening, Paddy, Señorita Torres," he responded amiably.**

**"Have you met Capitán Monastario before?" the Irishman asked her.**

**"Yes, I have," she replied coolly.**

**Diego came up and had a friendly look on his face. "Why, Comandante, I didn't even recognize you. How relaxed you look, for a change. And Elena, you've been dancing all evening with the Colonel. You're making wall flowers out of the rest of us."**

**Elena could not help but smiling at that. "I doubt that you, Diego, could ever be a wall flower, at least, not for long." Diego laughed.**

**"Oh, Paddy," Diego continued, taking O' Leary's elbow. "There is something I have to ask you about today's bazaar and I wonder if I might have a private word with you."**

**"Certainly, Diego," responded O' Leary, and moved off with the young don.**

**Enrique watched them leave and turned back to the girl. "It's a fine gathering, is it not?" he asked her. "The De la Vegas know how to turn out the town for a fiesta, no doubt with Paddy's help."**

**"No doubt," she replied and looked around for a way to retreat.**

**The captain moved next to her and poured some punch for himself, but only half a glass.**

**He nodded towards the musicians. "Paddy enlisted the latest show in town. In this setting, with the colorful lanterns, it is like another world, a grander world."**

**"I'm surprised that you notice that sort of thing, Comandante," she said. "But I'm glad to hear that you can speak about things other than war. There is much more to life than that, especially things like the lanterns and the music."**

**"Please, don't be so formal with me," he requested. "This is not the place for it. Why don't you just call me Enrique? I do have a first name."**

**"As you wish," she replied.**

**He took her arm. "You know, Señorita Elena, I do appreciate, as you say, the simple things in life. But I don’t often have the chance to. And I especially appreciate you."**

**"Me?" she asked suspiciously "Why?" She had not expected the feared comandante to be so personal.**

**"Why?" he responded in mock surprise. "Señorita, I would be blind not to see that you are a woman of charm and grace."**

**Over by the gate, Paddy O' Leary watched the exchange between the captain and Elena Torres, his interest and her coolness. _At least Enrique is trying_ , he thought _._ He forced himself to pay attention to young De la Vega who began to whisper to him.**

**"Uh, Paddy, what is Capitán Monastario doing here at the fiesta? I think that you know that my father does not like him at all. Did you also invite him?" asked Diego in a concerned tone.**

**Patrick O' Leary looked at him calmly as if nothing was amiss. He raised his eyebrows as if surprised that the question had been asked. "Is that a problem, now?" he asked in bewilderment. "When I asked if I could invite everybody, all me friends, I was not told that there were any exceptions."**

**Diego looked stumped a moment. "I guess you're right about that," he admitted. "We did not tell you not to invite him. But…"** ****

**"Now, Diego, just listen. Everything is going to be just fine, I swear it. There won't be any swordplay or politics or insults. I promise, on me honor. I won't let anything happen, believe me, now won't you?" He looked so sincere.**

**"Paddy," Diego began, then sighed audibly. "All right." Paddy had a way of getting what he wanted and wasn't he just the devil when he used that innocent routine. The Irishman patted him on the shoulder and headed toward a group of veterans. On the way, he stopped Bernardo and took another drink from the tray.**

**Back at the punch table, Elena Torres found herself engaged in an uncomfortable conversation with the garrison commander. Everyone seemed preoccupied in chatter and did not notice her growing distress. Enrique Monastario ignored it, took her elbow and guided her over to an empty chair near the musicians. "Why not get the best seats?" he asked as he sat down next to her.**

**"Tell me something, Comandante," she said in a challenging tone of voice. "Almost all the girls here at the party are charming and graceful. Why don't you take an interest in them? Look, there is María Calderón, Juanita and Josefina Villa, Lupe Sandoval, and Carmen Rodríguez."**

**Monastario looked over to the group of young ladies that she indicated. He nodded at one of them who seemed to be watching him. He leaned towards her. "I do appreciate their attributes, Elena. It is just that I like you the best."**

**"Why me?" she demanded.**

**Enrique Monastario kept his tone even, although he was irritated by her unfriendliness, in spite of his best manners. "You must know, Elena, that sometimes we men don't know ourselves why we are attracted to a particular woman. Is that so unexpected?"**

**"I suppose not," she replied, "but tell me truthfully, doesn't my father's money make the difference?"**

**Monastario smiled and shook his head. "All the girls you just named come from affluent families, so that does not apply." He paused so the fact would sink in. "Why are you so defensive tonight? It's such a pleasant evening."**

**When she did not reply he continued, "You know, Elena, you don't know me at all. You know nothing about me. I grew up in a grand home, finer than your hacienda. We had servants, white Spaniards, not lowly Indians, and our lands stretched further than the eye could see. The Monastario family is noble. My lineage reaches back centuries into the history of Spain. I have been to Court many times." He paused. "I am not one of these fortune hunters from the lower classes. My blood is pure Spanish." He looked very proud of himself. Then he lowered his voice to a whisper, "I tell you this so that you will not be so suspicious of me."**

**Elena Torres stood up. "Capitán Monastario, I truly believe what you have just told me about your family. Your lineage is impressive. But I want you to know that I am not suspicious of you because of what you are. I am suspicious of you because of what you do. There is a big difference. Now, if you will excuse me." With that she curtsied slightly and walked away.**

************************************************************************

**"So, you are a cousin of the Martínez family?" asked the red-haired man. "And your family is from northern Spain?"** ****

**The blond girl smiled shyly. "Yes, Don Patricio. We came directly here to California and settled in Monterey only five years ago. It is more like the North there, than Los Angeles is."** ****

**"Now isn't that interesting. And how is it that you've come here to us in Los Angeles?"**

**"I came with my sister and mother," she replied. "We have not been here for three years. There are many changes. Los Angeles is much bigger than I remember."** ****

**"All for the better, I expect," he responded. "Tell me, do you miss Spain?"**

**"A little. Most of my friends are there. It would be nice to meet some one from our province who could tell us all the news. Few travel back there now. Almost everyone goes to Madrid."**

**Paddy O' Leary smiled. "Would you like to meet a very nice young fellow from the North? He's right here at the fiesta. Maybe you two could find something in common, being from the North, that is?" His companion nodded amiably and looked around in expectation. He took her arm. "This way, my dear."**

**He came up behind Monastario who had just sat back down and was watching Elena Torres rejoin the group of young women who were her friends. He could not see the comandante's face. "Ah, Enrique, I have a surprise for you," he began.**

**Monastario turned. He forced a pleasant smile on his face. He was not in a good mood. When he saw the new blond girl, he rose to his feet and bowed. Her eyes widened when she noted the richness of his clothing, the bright blue eyes that matched her own and his charming smile.**

**"May I present Señorita Sofia Elena Martínez of Monterey?" the colonel asked formally. He turned to the young lady. "I present His Excellency, Enrique Monastario Sánchez."**

**"I don't believe I know this beautiful young lady," Enrique responded, taking her hand and kissing it. He was quick to note her open friendliness.**

**"I believe that Señorita Sofia and you have much in common, Enrique," O' Leary smiled. "She is from northern Spain just like you are. And how she misses speaking to someone about the rolling hills, forests and wild rivers there and the happy memories of her childhood."**

**"Really?" asked Monastario. There was a hint of sarcasm in his tone, but the blond girl missed it completely. He gestured to the chair next to him. "Would you care to sit down Señorita Martínez?"**

**She smiled and sat. "I'm so happy to meet someone from the North, like you, Your Excellency," she responded.**

**"Please, don't be so formal. It would please me if you just called me 'Enrique,' he told her.** ****

**Sofia Martínez blushed. "Thank you, Enrique. But only if you call me Sofia." She paused. "I’m so glad to hear that you are from the North," she told him. "And I can't wait to hear about all the news. Tell me about where you are from and what you do here in Los Angeles. Don Patricio said your family is quite distinguished."**

**Enrique Monastario smiled broadly and relaxed. The girl was genuinely interested and had not yet been poisoned against him by the gossips and slanderers in town. It would not take much to impress her and, who knows, he might find a new ally to put in a good word to others about Los Angeles and how well he ruled it.**  
  
---  
  
**[Chapter Twenty-one](http://bookscape.net/authors/colonel21.htm)**  
---  
**[Chapter One](http://bookscape.net/authors/colonel1.htm)**  
**[Zorro Contents](http://bookscape.net/zorrocontents.htm)**  
**[Main Page](http://bookscape.net/index.htm)**


	20. The Irish Colonel

The Irish Colonel

_**The Irish Colonel**_

_**by**_

_**Eugene Craig**_  
  
---  
  
**DAY FOUR**

**Chapter 21**

**The tall, thin ranchero stood in the middle of the old veterans as they discussed the old wars against France. His eyebrows were arched and he had a pointed beard. His demeanor was haughty. Don Carlos was not only known for his inflexible nature and his loyalty to Spain, but for his hatred and suspicion of foreigners. He had warned the governors time and time again about Russian and English ambitions along the northern coast of California, and how their settlements could spread southward, threatening the Spanish hegemony of the northern provinces of New Spain. Likewise he had warned against the French in the Louisiana territories before Bonaparte had treacherously sold Spanish lands there so cheaply to the American president, Jefferson. This evening he had much to say on a current topic.** ****

**"Gentlemen, like you I had not known much about our comandante - his tireless efforts to stamp out sedition in California and to protect our interests from the rabble and other troublemakers. I believe that he represents our best interests and, as such, it is up to the most loyal members of His Majesty to support him."** ****

**Nacho Torres overheard Don Carlos' comments from nearby. He stepped at once into the foray. "Your pardon, Don Carlos. It is one thing to support the military command when it acts in our interests against foreign aggression. It is still yet another when the military command acts against members of our own community, those it considers 'enemies from within', when they are, in actuality, loyal members of our community."**

**Don Carlos smiled in amusement. "Don Nacho, I expected you to speak up. You are a well-known republican, aren't you? Republicans have always challenged the authority of the King. Even now, republicans back the rebels in México and throughout the colonies in opposition to those most loyal to Spain."**

**"Republicans are loyal first to justice, Don Carlos, no matter who rules in our name. But we cannot give unconditional loyalty to any individual or group that claims to represent all Spaniards or to represent Spain when their rule constitutes injustice."**

**"Really, Don Nacho," responded Don Carlos with a sneer, "Spain is a monarchy and monarchism has proven itself the strongest and most durable form of government for centuries. Were it not for our civilization and way of life, even you would not have the education and fine hacienda that you now have. Nor would your family. The barbarians are at the gates once again and, instead of fortifying our barricades, you would have us tear them down to welcome in the rabble and savages. Would you have us give up our religion as well? Spain needs strong men in its time of trial and tribulation. Our best hope lies in men like Capitán Monastario who has no trouble discerning who the rebels are and who the loyalists are."**

**Diego moved in from the shadows. "Your pardon, Don Carlos. Aren't you forgetting that Don Nacho fought in the all the wars against France when she attacked Spain right after their revolution? I find it hard to believe that anyone would question his loyalty."**

**Don Carlos turned to the crowd with a look of one much older and wiser speaking to the uninitiated. "Don Diego is a young man spared from the horrors of war and one who has enjoyed the privileges of royal favor, both in Spain as well as here in California. Young man, republicanism is a dangerous threat to monarchy and never before has…"**

**Paddy O' Leary seemed to literally stumble into the group. In his raised hand was a glass half filled with wine. "Oh, excuse me, I just heard what ye' said and I have a bit of sage wisdom, I do. And there's no wisdom like that of the Irish." He turned to the tall ranchero. " Don Carlos, 'there's no need to fear the wind, if your haystacks are tied down. ' "**

**"How profound," the ranchero invoked, but Paddy's comment had elicited some smiles in the group. "I presume that you have some wisdom about drinking too much as well," he retorted haughtily.**

**The Irishman smiled. "Profound wisdom about the barley. And here's a bit: 'Drink is the curse of the land. It makes you fight with your neighbor. It makes you shoot at your landlord, and it makes you miss him.'"**

**Don Carlos, a landlord, was not amused. But Paddy just shrugged: "''One man's meat is another man's poison." Now, in my case it's a matter of 'it's often a man's mouth that broke his nose.' " That comment got a number of laughs.**

**"For your enlightenment," began Don Carlos, "we have some sayings in Spain from famous men as well."**

**"Ah, famous men," said Paddy, seizing hold of the conversation again. "What we wouldn't do without them. We Irish forgive our great men, but only when they are safely buried."**

**Don Carlos looked exasperated. "Colonel O' Leary, are we to put up with these sorts of witticisms for the rest of the evening?"**

**The Irishman was in his element. "Don Carlos, humor to a man is like a feather pillow. It is filled with what is easy to get, and gives great comfort." He hung on to Don Carlos like a bulldog to a steer.**

**Diego de la Vega heaved a sign of relief when Rosita Flores stepped out onto the patio and the music increased to announce her presence.**

*******************************************************************

**The evening proceeded well. Old groups broke up and new ones formed. After Señorita Flores' energetic performance, the guests danced late into the night and the minor tensions of the early hours dissolved into vapor.**

**Bernardo had been kept busy all night serving drinks from his tray, offering serviettes to those who spilled a bit from their glasses, and cleaning up major spills. He officiated over the food brought in by other servants and garnered much intelligence from conversations both idle as well as intimate. No one thought of falling silent in the presence of a man known as a deaf mute. Knowing that Diego would be interested in what the veterans discussed after speaking to Monastario, he brought tray after tray of drinks to them. Later, he stood close by to Monastario himself and listened to the man with the moustache and goatee fill the blond girl's ears with his enthusiasm for his own autocracy and its merits. But at least he danced with her as well.**

**And he kept up after the Irishman who seemed to have an endless capacity for drink and an even greater capacity for making sure he spoke to everyone and leaving a good impression, that is, with everyone except Don Carlos.**

**Finally, the guests began to leave by ones and twos or in small groups. Bernardo made sure everyone got his hat or gloves or shawls on and that no one had anything left behind.**

**He smiled when he saw the Martínez family leave with their cousins and hastened to help the ladies into their carriage.**

**One of the girls was saying to another, "Well, Sofia, what do you think of Capitán Monastario?"**

**The blond girl replied, "He's so interesting and very handsome."**

**"What?" Her companions reacted with astonishment. "But, darling, he's a perfectly horrible man," said another.**

**"I don't think so," the blond replied. "Did you know that he is the youngest comandante in all of New Spain and that he is a true aristocrat? I found him very charming. He dances divinely."**

**"You might feel very differently if you knew his other side," said another girl. "Why, just this year he hung several men without a trial and he persecutes Don Nacho with all kinds of threats."**

**"I thought that Elena was rather rude to him and he was being so nice to her," Sofia responded. "And what are threats but hot air. Enrique has so many responsibilities, especially in being vigilant for Spain. Since when have outlaws been given trials? Worse has happened to bandits in Spain. And, besides, I find a man like him rather attractive."**

**The other girls let off audible groans. With that, the carriage rolled off.**

**Then there were the usual farewells and comments about the dancer being even better than she was in the cantina, and ‘how grand it was to have seen you.’ Bernardo returned to the patio and saw Capitán Monastario making his way over to Colonel O' Leary. Bernardo pretended to be picking up glasses and wiping up after them.**

**"Ah, Colonel, may I have a word with you?" the comandante asked.**

**The Irishman excused himself and joined the dark-haired man. "How is the evening going for you, Enrique?"**

**"Excellent," replied Monastario. "But to change the subject. Drop in to see me tomorrow - after late morning mass, that is. I have a plan for capturing Zorro and you might find it entertaining."**

**"Still making plans for your nemesis, eh, Enrique?" responded the colonel. "Very well."**

**He took Monastario's arm and guided him over to introduce him to a distinguished looking older man. "Oh, by-the-by, I'd like you to have a word with Don Esteban over here. He is a veteran of the old war against France." The three men spent some time talking about Spain before Bonaparte and the split in the dynasty between the followers of the King’s father, Carlos, and his son, Ferdinand and how the feud had hurt Spain.**

**These were all the stories that Bernardo later related to Don Diego and to his father after all the guests had departed.**

**"You know, Diego, I have the feeling that Colonel O' Leary is something of a double agent. I'm not really sure whose side he is on. But he is busy looking like he is on everyone else's side," commented Alejandro thoughtfully.**

**Diego nodded. "I know what you mean, Father. But, knowing Paddy as I do, I tend to think that he does know who's side he is on - his own. Father, Colonel O' Leary is a very intelligent man. I don't think we should be too quick to judge just what he is up to, at least not yet. I think he is busy evaluating the situation. He seems genuinely interested in finding out all that he can about what is going on here in Los Angeles. As a part of doing so, he is neither breaking with one side or the other. That is a smart policy."**

**"I hope you are right, my son. But I am beginning to have some doubts about him. What if he is working for Monastario? Would he not be doing the same sort of investigations? That was his specialty in the old war - intelligence gathering." Alejandro paused. "And who knows what Monastario is up to again in his war against Zorro. I only hope our friend Zorro will be cautious and find out about this new devilry being planned against him."**

**"You know, Father, Zorro has the strangest way of finding out things. As soon as Monastario opens his mouth, it seems his words fly straight to Zorro’s ears." He looked over at Bernardo and winked.**

**Bernardo had to turn his back to prevent Alejandro from seeing him smile knowingly.** ****

*********************************************************************** ****

**Patrick O’ Leary tied up the horse at the local stable and made his way across the plaza. It took him a while to deliver all the old folks back home and most of them were sleepy and tired. Only Señora de la Cruz was animated the entire way home and he had to diplomatically exit her home in order to get the sleeping musician Escobedo to his door.**

**He heaved a sigh of relief and began thinking about what Monastario told him. Before he went back to the inn, a strange feeling, like a premonition, came over him, something that guided his steps to the church. He opened the door, removed his hat, and went inside. Even at this late hour there was always one or two other people there. He sat down near the back and tried to think. Life was just racing by. It was like a madly flowing river and he needed some quiet to sort things out. He closed his eyes for a while. In the quiet of the church he could hear the creaking timbers and the rustle of clothing. He felt someone pass him and react in an almost startled, animal way. Odd, thought Paddy.**

**Then, it struck him. In a flash he opened his eyes and looked up. There was no one there. He turned around quickly and saw the figure of a man departing through the doors in a hurry.**

**The Irishman grabbed his hat and lurched to his feet. He rushed to the doors and peered out into the darkness. In the stillness of the night, he heard a pair of running feet down the dirt road. He followed immediately in the direction of the sound. The darkness of the plaza made it almost impossible to see anything. Only the burning outside lanterns of the inn and the cuartel provided any illumination and whoever it was, had run from the light. Yet he ran blindly in pursuit until he could no longer hear the sound. He stopped and leaned against the side of a building, listening, straining his ears and eyes. But there was nothing. It was as if he had been chasing a phantom in a dream.**

_**It can't be him**_ **, the colonel muttered, _not here, not in Los Angeles. I must have had too much to drink_. He did not move from the spot for a long time.**

**Finally, O’ Leary turned and made his way back to the inn. As he walked across the plaza, he was watched from behind a partially shuttered window. When he disappeared through the front door of the inn, a hand let the curtain drop.** ****

**************************************************************** ****

**Her voice was urgent. "Paddy, Paddy," she called, and her voice seemed far away.**

**He groaned in his sleep and the nightmare went on. But her voice was persistent, calling his name, and it seemed to become louder and louder. He sat up in bed with a start.**

**Her hands were smoothing his hair, kissing him, holding him in her arms. "Paddy," she whispered in his ear. "It’s Rosita, darling." She kissed him again.**

**He clutched her arm. He was bathed in sweat and his heart was pounding. He finally focused on the girl with the long black hair. He took a big breath and let the air out slowly. When he looked at her, there was pain in his eyes. He put his arms around her and held her close. Neither of them spoke for several minutes.**

**"Was it the old dream again?" she asked.** ****

**He nodded. "And worse." He pulled back and looked into her dark eyes. "I’m sure I saw him tonight. It was in church, of all places. And then, I ran after him, into the darkness. And I lost him, Rosita, I lost him." Paddy paused. "But was it real?" He held her close again and muttered in her ear, "Was it real?"** ****  
  
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**[Chapter Twenty-two](http://bookscape.net/authors/colonel22.htm)**  
---  
**[Chapter One](http://bookscape.net/authors/colonel1.htm)**  
**[Zorro Contents](http://bookscape.net/zorrocontents.htm)**  
**[Main Page](http://bookscape.net/index.htm)**


	21. The Irish Colonel

The Irish Colonel

_**The Irish Colonel**_

_**by**_

_**Eugene Craig**_  
  
---  
  
**DAY FIVE**

**Chapter 22**

**Capitán Enrique Monastario leaned back in his chair and leisurely puffed on a cheroot. He was very pleased with himself. The party at the De la Vegas had been a great success for him, despite the setback with Elena Torres. And he had a plan on how to deal with her later on. If a woman would not give in to sentimentality and gallantry, maybe she would see reason through other tactics. But he would attempt to implement some of O’ Leary’s methods for starters. That Irishman had a way of worming himself into just about everyone’s good graces, especially into those of women. There was nothing wrong in learning a few new tricks, especially if they got him beyond yesterday’s impasses.** ****

**There was a knock at the door. "Enter," he responded. He rose to his feet when he saw the Irishman. "Ah, Colonel. You are up early this morning." His eyes were quick to note the man’s serious demeanor. His intuition sensed something was wrong. "May I offer you a drink?" The colonel nodded. Monastario poured him a glass of brandy, and then a second. "Have a seat, Paddy," he said pointing to a chair.** ****

**O’ Leary sat down. He looked at the captain. "I see that you’ve been busy, Enrique, even on a Sunday. Tell me, who are all the lost souls in your jail out there?"** ****

**"Drunks, disturbers of the peace, vagrants, riff-raff," the officer responded in an off-hand manner. "They never take orders very seriously here."**

**"You could always shame them by turning them over to the church and letting the padre deal with them as they try to repent," the Irishman suggested.**

**Monastario smirked at that. "It might work if any of them were really religious, Paddy, but these anti-social types are no more interested in repenting than pigs in a pig sty. Besides, they are the bait for my trap."**

**"Ah, your trap for the Fox," Paddy mused. "You did mention a provocation. Just what did you have in mind?"**

**"Just leave the details to me. What is important is the role you will play. I intend to lure Zorro into the cuartel. You will be on the outside and you will follow him to see to where he flees if he escapes. From what I have been able to ascertain, he takes the main road out of town. That is where you will lie in wait. Just in case he changes his plans, I have a few troopers covering the other exits from town, but not too discreetly, of course." He chuckled.**

**"When will this action commence, Capitán?" the colonel asked.**

**"It has already begun with the arrests," smiled the captain. "But out of consideration for your religious sensibilities, I will wait until tomorrow to begin the amusing aspects of this action. Just be ready by sunset." He smiled and leisurely blew out a ring of smoke. "By the way, Don Carlos has agreed to sell you one of his fine stallions. I told him to do so as a personal favor to me. He will bring two into town when he comes with his sister this afternoon. You can then make your choice."**

**"How thoughtful of you," responded O’ Leary dryly. "You really are in a hurry to catch this bandit. But why the rush?"**

**The captain sat down on the edge of his desk. "I’ll tell you frankly, Paddy, that I have contemplated some actions against him for some time. But it was your presence here that gave me the idea and the edge I need to finally capture him. With your expertise for intelligence gathering and your tracking ability, I can be working this problem from both the inside as well as the outside. Not a bad strategy, eh, Colonel?"**

**"Commendable, Enrique," the Irishman commented. "I will test the two stallions out this afternoon and make my choice. We’ll see how they handle some of the terrain off of the main road."**

**"Excellent, Colonel. Until tomorrow?" The captain rose and escorted his guest to the door.**

**"Until tomorrow," replied the Irishman.**

**************************************************************************

**Paddy O' Leary wandered about the plaza making small talk with couples and individuals whom he met. Most were on their way to or from church services. He was really hoping that Elena Torres would come to town with her parents. He admired her courage, or maybe it was her foolishness, in countering Enrique's social chess moves at the fiesta the night before. He also liked her parents very much and thought they needed to ally themselves openly with others. There's always been safety in numbers, he thought. The danger is when you stand out like a black sheep in a white flock.**

**He was near the church when he saw a plump woman in black coming out of the church. Her demeanor told him that she was in great distress. He recognized her at once.**

**"Good day to you, Señora Cárdenas," he greeted her.**

**The woman looked up and he saw that her face was tear-stained. She attempted to smile.**

**"My dear woman," he said in a tone of great concern. His brow was furrowed and his green eyes took in every detail.**

**"Oh, Colonel O' Leary," she began in a tremulous voice, "please forgive me."**

**He put his arm around her shoulder. "Don't think anything of it. Can I help you in some way? "**

**"I don't think anyone can help me," she answered tearfully.**

**"Now, would you like to sit in the church garden and talk about it. Talking always helps," he encouraged her.**

**Isabel Cárdenas hesitated. Praying had brought her no peace. Perhaps the kind Irishman could help her discover a solution. She nodded her assent and they went to the wooden gate. He opened it for her. Inside the shade trees and profusion of plants created the illusion of a more peaceful place, a place where answers might be found. They found a stone bench near some graves and sat down. She dried her tears with a kerchief and looked up into a sympathetic face.**

**"Forgive me, please, Colonel O' Leary. Perhaps you understand these things better than I do. It's Roberto - something is troubling him, no - is frightening him - and he won't tell me what. I thought I knew him well, but the way he is acting one would think he had seen Satan himself. I don't know how to describe it."**

**"Señora, just tell me when it started, then perhaps we can figure out what is going on," Paddy told her.**

**"It's odd, I thought it so odd, that the day he seemed to become frightened was on the same day that you came to our store. I'm sure it's a coincidence, but that is the day that it began. Roberto has always been a brave and courageous man. He fears no other man and has no need to. Did I ever tell you that he was in the Army?" she asked.**

**"Yes, you told me," he replied.**

**"Roberto has never told me much about his life in the wars, but I have pieced together bits and pieces of his life. He must have been in the War for Liberation and on many fronts. He came to the Américas. I first met him in Peru, in Lima. He brought his small son with him. He said that his wife was dead from the wars in Spain. I was a widow myself, Colonel O' Leary. The Loyalists killed my husband. Roberto was very sympathetic to our cause. I fell in love with him and Pedrito whom I love as if he was my own boy. When the situation became too dangerous for us, he told us that we should leave. We fled from Peru to Venezuela, then to Colombia. It was too dangerous for us to stay, even there."**

**"Is that when you came to California?" asked O' Leary.**

**"Yes. Roberto thought that here we would be safe. California was peaceful. He calls California 'the Ends of the Earth,'" she smiled slightly.**

**"That's what it seemed to me as well," the Irishman, finding the coincidence in terminology interesting.**

**"But here, the danger seems to have found us once again," she said, a little fearfully.**

**"When did it start? With my arrival?" asked Paddy.**

**"Oh, no, not with you," Isabel Cárdenas began. "The first danger seemed to be when Capitán Monastario arrived last year."**

**"Monastario?" queried the Irishman in surprise. "How was he a danger?"**

**"We had an experience with him and his troops, first in Peru, then in Venezuela," she continued. "He was the officer assigned to seek out and hunt down republicans. His own commanding officer was nicknamed 'the Butcher' - that was General Morillo. Roberto said that that the general would show no mercy. General Morillo slaughtered men, women and children and that is why we had to get out. Capitán Monastario was the one who hanged my husband earlier. He spared me because I was a woman. It is said that by doing so he earned himself a reprimand from the general."**

**"When he came to Los Angeles, did Capitán Monastario recognize you?" asked Paddy.**

**"I don't think so," she replied. "I've changed a lot, so has Roberto. We even changed our names. It has been the worry and the fear. It's amazing how one can change in just a few short years. I used to be very beautiful, Colonel, but look at me now." A tear slid down her cheek again.**

**He held her hand. "You are a beautiful woman, Señora, and don't let anyone ever say that you are not," he said sincerely. "You and Pedro are just among the finest folks I've met here in Los Angeles. I'm glad to hear that it was not me that was the cause of your husband's distress. It's why I'm interested in meeting your husband as well."**

**"Thank you," Isabel sighed, drying her tears again. "You know, Colonel, this is only half of my story. You see, Roberto became very suspicious when you came to our store. When Pedrito told him the story of meeting you on the coach, he reacted very strangely. When I questioned him, he said that it was nothing, only that you reminded him - I hope you will forgive me - of someone bad that he once knew a long time ago."**

**O' Leary chuckled at that. "It wouldn't be the first time for me," he said humorously. "I do have that effect on some people. Not everybody loves us Irish."**

**"I don't mean that," the woman continued. "You see, it was after Pedrito told him about your war stories with Espoz y Mina that he became very nervous. That makes no sense to me. All of us on the republican side know about him - he's a great hero to this day. Why would this upset Roberto so?"**

**Paddy thought hard, but what he said did not match his feelings. "Perhaps Roberto thinks I’m a Royalist, like Monastario," he suggested. "After all, it’s no secret that we were old comrades in the war. I would just like to assure you, Señora, that our comradeship is limited to that war, not to the present ones. We have our differences, but we aren’t speaking of them. It seems to be a good policy."**

**The woman nodded. "I would like to think that the explanation is that simple." She dabbed her eyes with her kerchief again.**

**The colonel felt badly about asking his next question, but he did so in a very neutral tone of voice. "You said that Roberto was upset after Pedrito told him my war stories. Has he been upset at all since that time?"**

**Isabel Cárdenas looked down at her hands folded in her lap. "I thought it had all ended, until last night. Roberto went out for a walk and when he came back he was as white as a ghost. I asked him what was wrong. He told me that he had too much to drink."**

**"A man will often drink to forget his worries, Señora," the Irishman commented.**

**"But Roberto doesn't drink and there was not a whiff of alcohol on his breath," she whispered. "There's something going on and now I'm afraid." She looked around to see if anyone was nearby and confided. "Roberto told me that he is going to leave town very soon. He said he has some unexpected business to attend to. When I asked him what the business was, he would not answer. So, you see, this is why I am upset. I am very sorry to trouble you with my worries," she added.**

**Patrick O' Leary patted her hand sympathetically. "I'll tell you what. If you would like, I can drop by the store tomorrow and have a word with your husband. If this is related to a problem with Monastario, maybe I can be of service since I am on good relations with him." He paused. "Maybe Roberto just needs to confide in a man who has had many of the same experiences."**

**Isabel Cárdenas smiled hopefully. "Thank you so much. Maybe that is all that Roberto needs. Sometimes a woman cannot understand everything and another man can. Yes, if you would like to drop in and speak with him while you ask him about the gift, that would be good."**

**The colonel rose and offered her his hand. "Allow me to escort you to the end of the plaza."**

**The woman smiled, and took his arm. "I'm feeling much better now, Colonel O' Leary."**

**When they reached the far side of the plaza, she turned to him. "Thank you for being our friend. I won't forget it."**

**The red-haired man bowed and watched her leave. When he turned back towards the church he felt deeply troubled. _So you don't drink_ , he thought. _Well, there's a coincidence for you. There was a certain man in the regiment who would match that description as well, a man who was very careful with a drink. I wonder…._**

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**The Torres family – Don Nacho, Doña Louisa, and Señorita Elena took their carriage into the pueblo of Los Angeles for late morning mass. The day promised to be a warm one for even at daybreak the winds had died down and the dry grasses barely moved. The two horses tossed their heads as the driver flicked the reins and encouraged them forward on the dirt road that wound through the oaks and yellow grasses.**

**The three of them chatted about the party the night before. Nacho was especially amused by Don Patricio’s witticisms that defused the tensions between himself and Don Carlos. Doña Luisa commented that she was delighted to see so many of the pueblo’s original inhabitants like the musician Señor Escobedo and Señora de la Cruz and how Colonel O’ Leary had brought them all out. Elena admitted that she was becoming very fond of the red-haired man who always had something positive and complementary to say. "He manages to get around to everyone," she said. "It makes me sad to think that he retired almost prematurely. Just think what Los Angeles would be like if a man like him were in charge of the cuartel."**

**Her father nodded in agreement. "In the current political climate, we would be fortunate indeed to have a man like Colonel O’ Leary in charge. However, those in power seem to think we need the iron fist. I hope that Don Patricio can continue to soften the heart of the comandante or at least modify his behavior. So far, it seems he has been a positive influence. I was very surprised to see Monastario at the fiesta last night. Don Alejandro must have been convinced that inviting everyone would be one way of starting anew. I could have not done it myself."**

**"Now, Nacho, I have more faith in you than that," countered Doña Luisa. "If Don Alejandro was willing to show that he could bury the hatchet, I think you could do no less should the occasion arise. Even Capitán Monastario was cordial to everyone. He even chatted with us ladies, although it was just the basic pleasantries."**

**"It was Don Patricio who brought him over, Mother," Elena pointed out. "He also introduced him to everyone else, too."**

**"Capitán Monastario did not have any trouble seeking you out, Elena," her mother responded. "You never did tell us what he had to say."**

**Elena looked into the distance at the mountains and across the meadows to the next rise in the road before she responded. "He told me that he likes me a lot," she confessed. "I can’t imagine why. I told him that I questioned his motivations. Then he told me that he’s an aristocrat and not a fortune hunter. I told him that I have nothing against the fact that he and his family are distinguished, only that I object to how he conducts himself. I could not get away from him fast enough."**

**"I sympathize, Elena," her father commented. "But it might be a good idea if we have his friendship with at least one member of the family. I know he dislikes me and that is political. But if he is friendly to your mother and to you, it might help prevent you from coming to grief, especially if the political climate worsens. It will be hard for you, dear, but endeavor to be cordial to him. He himself has hinted that conditions could worsen. We don’t want to be the ones that trigger any unfortunate events or give the excuse for him to do so."**

**"Speaking of Capitán Monastario," Doña Luisa interrupted, "isn’t that the capitán coming on the white horse?"**

**All three members turned in their seats and looked in the direction of the pueblo. In the distance, a cloud of dust was being stirred by the hooves of several horses pounding along the dirt road, headed toward them.**

**Capitán Enrique Monastario observed the carriage in the distance as he headed up the group of troopers for his daily ride into the countryside. His eyes narrowed as he recognized the carriage of the Torres family. It was an open carriage and the two ladies were seated in the back. They seemed to be chatting with each other. Maybe old man Torres was seated behind the driver. They had been polite at the De la Vegas, but then social etiquette demanded it and no one had expected him to be there either.**

**As the horses came upon the carriage, he slowed down the splendid white stallion he rode to a walk. He gestured to the driver of the carriage to halt, then eased his mount alongside the carriage.**

**The ladies stopped chatting and looked up at him. The head of Don Nacho peered around the side of the carriage. "Good morning, Capitán Monastario," he said in a friendly voice. "I hope nothing distressful brings you out this far from the pueblo on such a beautiful Sunday."**

**Monastario touched the brim of his hat in a kind of salutation to Torres and he nodded to the ladies. "The Army is constantly vigilant," he answered. "Even on Sundays." His gaze shifted back to the ladies. "Señora Torres, Señorita Elena," he acknowledged, "you are out early." He seemed to be studying the young woman who wore a black shawl over a white blouse and black skirt like her mother.**

**"The day promises to be a warm one," the older woman responded. "Morning mass suits us best, especially in the summertime. Like the army, we are disciplined to rise early, and not just on Sundays."**

**"And you Señorita Elena? Have you nothing to say?" the officer challenged her silence.**

**"I hope that we will meet you in church later today," she offered. "It is always pleasant to encounter our friends there."**

**Monastario smiled confidently. "I am certain that we will, but perhaps not today," he replied. "With your permission I will call upon you this week." He gave her a knowing look.**

**"Those who come as friends are always welcome, Capitán," Don Nacho said in a pleasant tone.**

**"Then I bid you farewell until that time," the captain responded, bowing slightly from the waist. He waved a gloved hand to the troopers and spurred the white stallion forward. They took off in a cloud of dust.**

**"For some reason, I always have the feeling that Capitán Monastario is up to something," remarked Doña Luisa. "I will always be cordial to him, but he is not a man who inspires trust."**

**"I just wish he wouldn't come at all," Elena said. "He makes me uncomfortable and I don't like the idea that he is interested in me to any degree."**

**"We can't spend our lives hiding from what is unpleasant," her father said as the carriage bounced its way along the road toward the pueblo. "One day, we will have to face issues that are more serious than his flirting with you."**

**"Do you think he is only flirting with me, Father?" Elena asked in surprise. "When he spoke to me last night, I felt like it was his intention of eventually asking me to marry him. That’s why I wanted to get away."**

**"Most young men courting a young lady would bring flowers and gifts," Nacho explained. "So far, Capitán Monastario has just become friendlier and told you about himself and his family. He has not conducted himself in a romantic way that I can see. A man intent on marriage usually approaches the parents, even if he does not care for them. I tend to think that the comandante’s strategy is to split the family, pitting the daughter against her parents."**

**"He’ll never succeed in doing that," Elena declared.**

**"Capitán Monastario is very clever, Nacho, " Luisa pointed out. "I trust Elena’s instincts concerning his intentions. He is quite the egotist and may think that his position of authority can override social conventions when it comes to the lady he intends to pursue. My worry is that he seems to be a fairly ambitious young man who will pursue his goals relentlessly. If one method does not work, he will try another."**

**"He is all of those things, but knowing his zealousness, I tend to think his intentions are ultimately political." The don frowned a moment, then lightened up. "But speaking of flowers and gifts, it would seem that you have a more charming suitor than the comandante – Colonel O’ Leary."**

**Both Elena and her mother smiled. "He is very charming and I enjoy his wit and kindness," Elena admitted. "But he seems very old – perhaps thirty-five?"**

**Both Nacho Torres and his wife burst into laughter at that comment. "Oh, daughter, " Nacho said with much merriment. "What I would not give to be only thirty-five again."**  
  
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**[Chapter Twenty-three](http://bookscape.net/authors/colonel23.htm)**  
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**[Chapter One](http://bookscape.net/authors/colonel1.htm)**  
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	22. New Page 1

New Page 1

_**The Irish Colonel**_

_**by**_

_**Eugene Craig**_  
  
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**DAY FIVE**

**Chapter 23**

**It was early afternoon when Diego de la Vega and his manservant Bernardo rode toward the pueblo of Los Angeles. Diego raced his palomino along the roads and through the narrow passes with Bernardo following in his wake. It was an enjoyable pastime of his and Diego liked to keep up his sword fighting in private as well as his equestrian skills.**

**As they reached the top of the hills that overlooked the road to the pueblo, Diego saw a carriage with a man and woman in it. Alongside was a vaquero bringing up two stallions from the rear. Diego recognized the carriage and the stallions at once as belonging to Don Carlos. He decided to find out what was going on.**

**The horses continued to race along the road until they caught up with the carriage. Diego slowed down and hailed its passengers. "Good afternoon, Señorita, Don Carlos," he greeted them in a friendly manner.**

**"Good afternoon, Don Diego," Don Carlos replied in his stern and formal manner. The woman with him smiled, "How nice to see you again, Don Diego."**

**"Are you entering your horses in a race today, Don Carlos," asked Diego innocently. "When I last saw you with these two, they came in second place."**

**The Don was proud of his animals. "They came in first place in San Diego just this spring. I was hoping your father would bring Diabla to test her against mine, but he could not make it at that time. I will reluctantly part with one of the two today, but as you know, I have some young ones following in their stead which show the same promise in their fleetness and strength."**

**"Who is buying, if I may ask?" Diego queried.**

**Don Carlos looked a little exasperated. "That character, Colonel O’ Leary, is," he said. "But I’m only doing it as a personal favor to our comandante. If it were not for his request, I would not even consider doing business with that foreigner." The ranchero looked disdainful. "He’s just a vulgar drunk."**

**"I thought he was rather charming," his sister spoke up. "All the ladies there seemed to like him very much."**

**"Hmmpf," snorted her brother. "As charming as a goat, I suppose. I would think that you would find a sober gentleman with a business frame of mind more suitable than that soldier of fortune."**

**"Colonel O'Leary is a decorated war hero, whether we like him or not, Carlos. Besides, he's retired now, not a soldier of fortune," the woman pointed out. "I'm sure that once he's here a while, he will fit right in with the rest of us."**

**"That remains to be seen," the don said with conviction. "I don't know why our comandante even puts up with him. He should certainly not let rank stand in his way since the man's retired. I hear that he spends his time drinking with the soldiers in the tavern and flirting with that low-class dancer. Not much of an officer if you ask me."**

**"Colonel O’ Leary seems to have the knack of getting to know everyone, no matter what their status in life," Diego commented. "He is also an aristocrat, but one with ‘the common touch.’"**

**"Aristocrat or not, he forgets the dignity of his office and rank," Don Carlos continued. "That is something that no Spanish nobleman ever forgets. He might have been a nobleman, but he is contaminated with republicanism. He even spouts like one with peasant proverbs and the like." With that comment, the don gestured to the carriage driver. "If you will excuse us, Don Diego, I have some appointments in town."**

**Diego bowed slightly. "Have a pleasant afternoon, Don Carlos, Señorita," he bowed and waved as the carriage took off. He turned to his manservant. "You know, Bernardo, there are some interesting developments afoot."**

**Bernardo nodded, easing his mount closer to his master. He pointed to the departing carriage of Don Carlos, made a sign of a man with a mustache and goatee and a military bandoleer, and, finally to a man with a mug taking a drink. He took three of his fingers and put them all together.**

**Diego nodded. "It seems like three characters are getting together this afternoon. And after what you overheard Monastario say about planning a trap for el Zorro, I think I am beginning to see what is going on: Don Carlos is going to sell Paddy one of his fastest horses. Paddy tried to track me twice, once the night I met him on the road after his visit at the Torres’, and then, the next morning. Next, the comandante will pull off some stunt to lure Zorro in to town. And finally, something unpleasant is being planned for trapping el Zorro."**

**Bernardo nodded and shook his head in consternation. He shrugged his shoulders, then raised his hands and eyebrows to indicate a question of what do do.**

**Diego urged his horse forward. "Come, Bernardo, let’s do some scouting around and see what we can come up with. There’s nothing like getting some of the information first hand. After all, if Capitán Monastario can use resources, there is no reason why we can’t do the same."**

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**The stocky man with the brown hair and thick mustache stood in his closed store and looked around. There would be ample stocks and supplies for some time. He cleaned up and swept the floor, dusted the shelves and arranged his goods to make them as interesting as possible. He kept himself busy, if only to keep his mind off something that had come back to haunt him years after he thought he had escaped it. Arranging things, moving items, was only a device, he knew, that kept him from brooding and anticipating the worst. And the imagination could be a source of fear as well as an escape.**

**Roberto Cárdenas picked up a few sweets and put one into his mouth to savor. He put the rest in his pocket. How strange it was that he had only come to take something so simple, like a confection, for granted only recently. He remembered years before when he had been desperately hungry, how his life had been fearful and uncertain. Then, all that changed. He sat down on a barrel and remembered his life. He had managed to get a passage to the new world and had traveled to the port of Havana, Cuba, in the Américas with his little son.**

**He remembered the trip along the tropical coast of the island with its shoreline of endless trees, bays and beaches. The ship had passed the entrance of Havana’s harbor with the tall watchtower on the left and the old Spanish fortresses on either side with their cannon bristling out of the gun slits in the masonry. The interior walls of the fortresses were fifteen feet thick to repel the gunfire of the English fleet that had taken the city in 1762, only to be driven out after a year’s occupation.**

**Havana looked like any Spanish port city with its cobblestone streets, the Governor General’s mansion and the Plaza de Armas just a stone’s throw from the harbor itself. In the same plaza were buildings of colonial administration and the palaces of noblemen, attractive with their bright colors of yellow and blues, greens and pinks. Soldiers drilled in the plaza and marched through the streets on patrol at night, constantly vigilant for curfew violators who were usually slaves or drunks. The royal government also sent troops to raid the homes of suspected republicans and not a few had been arrested or deported.**

**Then there was the fear of slave revolts that was not far from whispered conversations that died down when the black servants approached. The French had fled the revolt of their slaves in Haiti just a few years before and had come to Cuba to replant their coffee trees in the cooler mountains both to the west of Havana in Pinar del Río province as well as in the Sierra Maestra at the eastern end of the island.**

**Dependence on troops to suppress the slaves was a strength and weakness, thought Roberto. Then there was the malaria from mosquitoes and the lack of sanitation just outside of the city, a danger for both children and adults. And the Spanish administration was slovenly in its attention to such matters. No, this is not a place where I can find refuge for Pedrito and me. And so, he booked passage to Cartagena, Columbia, then on to Venezuela where he left the boy with a kind and beautiful lady, Isabel, the woman who later became his wife, while he went on to explore the highlands of Peru.**

**The American colonies were in a ferment of revolt and had been for years, but who could believe the news from either Madrid or the colonies. Roberto found himself in a chaos greater than that of Spain. He took refuge with a family of republicans, supporters of independence in Peru, but found that Lima was a stronghold of the Loyalists and the dangers to republicans there was greater than just about anywhere he had traveled. Back and forth across mountain trails that descended from their great peaks into steaming jungles he traveled. Many a life was claimed from treacherous rock slides and narrow mountain roads where even sure-footed burros lost their hold and fell plunging into the abysses below.**

**And finally, he had made it back to Venezuela where rebel troops under the famous Generals Simón Bolívar and his friend José Antonio de Sucre had succeeded in many battles against the Loyalists. But all was not clear-cut. Massacres by Loyalists were meant to strike fear into the hearts of resistance fighters, their supporters and their families. Outside Caracas, Loyalist guerilla forces harassed republican forces and men who had fought Bonaparte in Spain found themselves on opposite political sides. Isabel's husband had been killed and she herself came close to death.**

**Roberto Cárdenas breathed in deeply as he forced himself to abandon his remembrances of the past. Would he ever find peace? California had seemed like a refuge, but here, there was greater danger than he had ever imagined. Could he escape again? He peered out the window of his store and watched the people come and go on Sunday. He saw his friends and he saw his enemies. He began to pace the floor in the darkened room.**

**************************************************************************

**Paddy headed back to town for a change of clothes. He had spent much of the afternoon testing two fine stallions in the hills and on the road outside of Los Angeles. One was a handsome gray and the other a dark brown. Both of the animals were fast and capable, but the Irishman based his decision on the animal’s personality. "Animals are like people," he said as he rubbed the great horse’s chocolate brown neck and whispered in its ear. "You have not only to talk to them, but you have to listen as well."**

**Don Carlos, as expected, rolled his eyes. He saw horses only as possessions and for purposes of prestige, but his vaquero smiled with his eyes in appreciation of the Irishman’s sensitivities. The stallion he chose was, admittedly, the plainer of the two, but that was not the point. There was that unspoken quality, an indefinable link between animal and man, an understanding of the one for the other as when two similar spirits met. Paddy spent much of the afternoon riding and conversing with the animal that he named Erin.**

**As he walked to the inn, Paddy thought about how the bargaining had gone as well. Although he paid more for Erin than he had wanted, the horse was well worth the cost. Don Carlos expressed disgust to hear that the horse’s name had changed from Royal Splendor to Erin the moment the money had exchanged hands. To the Irishman’s way of thinking, even Erin seemed to like the name change, for like Ireland, it was how the word softly tripped on the tongue, and the inflection of affection and love it conveyed when spoken.**

**Then there were the plans for tomorrow and beyond tomorrow which would be more uncertain. He had met Elena and her parents out on the road as they returned home. He showed off Erin and even Don Nacho got out of the carriage and rode the horse up the road and back, complementing the colonel on his new steed and expressing the hope that he would enter the animal into one of the local races. Doña Luisa had invited him to visit them the next afternoon and Elena‘s eyes were full of affection for him. Then she made the comment that she always welcomed his sunny disposition. _Ah, the little colleen was finally breaking out of her shell_ , he thought _. And how her face lights up when she smiles and the clouds of worry vanish like the fog_. And Paddy wanted to make the clouds disappear for the Torres if he could. **

**And speaking of the fogs, there were more serious matters. First, Enrique’s rotten show to entice the confrontation with El Zorro. That should reveal a thing or two about the comandante’s methods and gage the popular reaction, if any. Then there was the visit to the general store to meet with one Roberto Cárdenas. Paddy really hoped that what he had heard thus far about the man was merely a strange coincidence, just another tragic tale that had begun with Bonaparte’s war against Spain and one that had played itself out in the Américas. War had uprooted the lives of many men and driven many abroad under similar circumstances. This is what he told himself. But at the back of his mind were the nagging doubts and an uncomfortable feeling of familiarity that would give him no peace. And these sentiments grew in their intensity and he found it harder to quiet them and even harder to ignore them.**

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**The evening was a quiet one at the inn. Rosita Flores sat in a brown skirt with a white blouse. Gone were the bright red and gold earrings and bracelets on her arms. Instead, she wore a silver cross around her neck and a silver ring on her right hand. At her side was her grandmother, a thin, white haired woman with a solemn demeanor. Both sat at the table and listened quietly to a man who spoke with enthusiasm about his new horse and the hills and countryside outside Los Angeles. He had gone on almost non-stop during dinner, pausing only long enough to ask them about who they met at evening mass and how the book by Cervantes that they were reading was coming along.**

**Finally, the hour grew late and the two ladies retired for the evening. Paddy O’ Leary ordered himself a bottle of wine and began to drink it after they left. He had had nothing but tea for dinner, not to offend the grandmother, that is, and it was time to help the food digest with some spirits.**

**Another half an hour passed when Rosita Flores came back down the stairs and rejoined him at the table. The gray-haired innkeeper brought her a glass and Paddy filled it half way. Rosita smiled and proposed a toast to Erin, the horse.**

**"What a little darlin’ you are," Paddy commented, raising his glass to hers. She was quick to respond to this enthusiasm on almost any subject, but especially on the subject of Erin.**

**Rosita smiled. "You have a real feeling for this horse, Paddy. How like you, to love such an animal." She took another sip of wine. "You have love for a great many things. That is why I love you, too, Paddy."**

**"Perhaps tonight is a night for love," he suggested and gave her a wink.**

**She purred in response and giggled, nodding.**

**But then his _expression grew serious. He lowered his voice to an almost inaudible level. She leaned forward to hear his words.**

**"Sweetheart, there is something I have to tell you," he began. "And let me get this over with as soon as possible. Then we’ll think about other things, more pleasant things."**

**The door to the tavern banged open and Sergeant García marched in. There were two other soldiers with him. O’ Leary had seen the two before at the cuartel, but did not know them. The big sergeant and the two privates sat down at a table. García spotted the Irishman at once.**

**Paddy got the feeling that he was going to be encroached upon and he decided to ignore García completely. He reached his hands across the table to Rosita and took her small hands in his, telling her that her eyes reminded him of a love poem that he was going to quote.**

**Out of the corner of his eye, he saw García nod towards him. One of the soldiers was shaking his head in disapproval at the sergeant having appraised the situation at the colonel’s table. García got up anyway and headed toward their table.**

**Rosita saw everything, too. Without looking at García, she gave a laugh. "Oh, Paddy," she said in a voice just loud enough for García to hear. "Recite the whole love poem, and if anyone interrupts you, I want you to break his face."**

**The Irishman gave her an approving look. "I’ll do that, just for you, Love. And while I’m at it, I’ll rearrange it as well."**

**The sergeant stopped dead in his tracks, pretended to get an extra chair from an adjoining table and headed back over to where the soldiers relaxed. He looked back over his shoulder and sat down. "That Señorita Flores is a little wildcat," he told the two privates, much to their amusement. "Don’t let her small size and pretty face fool you." He pouted a moment. "Say, Hugo, why don’t you buy a bottle this time?"**

**The soldier with a pencil thin mustache took off his hat and laid it on the spare chair. He sighed. "I bought the bottle the last time. Don’t you remember, Sergeant?"**

**"Oh," García responded. He turned to the other soldier who shook his head rapidly. "I don’t have a centavo, Sergeant."**

**The big man looked back over his shoulder to the colonel’s table. The colonel seemed to be in a long discourse. "How long does it take to recite a poem?" he muttered to himself.**

**"Come on, Sergeant. Buy the bottle. We don’t have all night," the two soldiers pressed him.**

**García stalled around for as long as he could, then reluctantly got up and headed to the bar. He kept glancing over at the colonel’s table and then gave up. Maybe the colonel knew lots of love poems and the dancer was certain to keep him going. She sure had him twisted around her little finger, he thought. He sighed, reached into his pocket and pulled out some coins for a bottle.**

**The gray-haired and balding innkeeper did not give him any change. When García protested, Señor Pacheco told him that he was applying it to the bill he had already racked up. García sighed again and took the bottle back to the table. So intent was he on pouring out the wine, he did not see Rosita and the colonel rise and head toward the stairs.**

**When the innkeeper looked up and made to bid them a pleasant evening, Rosita put her fingers to her lips. The man nodded in understanding and the colonel gave him a silent salute. They headed up the stairs together.**

**"You know," García said to the soldiers, "this idea of Capitán Monastario’s is not very good."**

**"It makes me sick," said Hugo. "Listen, Sergeant, don’t choose me to do any of the whippings. I know two of those men personally. They’re not criminals. They just get drunk every once in a while."**

**"If the capitán assigns you to do it, then there’s nothing I can do about it," García responded. He was about to say something more when one of the soldiers kicked him from under the table. He looked up in alarm.**

**"Well, Sergeant, how is everything going this evening?" a familiar voice said and a hand clapped him on the shoulder.**

**"Oh, it’s you, Don Diego," said García in a voice filled with relief.**

**"I hope I’m not interrupting anything important or personal am I?" the young man asked with concern.**

**"No, you are not interrupting anything personal," the big sergeant shook his head. He looked a bit unhappy. "Only something a little sad." He took a long drink of wine.**

**"Something sad?" The don's eyebrows were raised questioningly. "Is there anything I can do for you fellows?"**

**García felt Hugo nudge him under the table with his foot and looked at the wine bottle.**

**"Well, sí, Don Diego. Why don't you have a seat here with us? Hugo, get Don Diego a mug."**

**Diego sat down at the table and watched García pour him a little wine. "This is a first, Sergeant," he remarked and took a sip.**

**"A first? A first what?" asked García in a puzzled voice, as the other two soldiers grinned.**

**"Uh, never mind," Diego smiled. "Now what did you say about something sad?"**

**García looked around him and motioned Diego closer. The other two soldiers leaned across the table in a conspiratorial manner as well. "It’s like this," he said in a very low voice. "Capitán Monastario is planning some tricks tomorrow."**

**"He’s always up to something, Sergeant," responded Diego nonchalantly. "What is he going to do this time?"**

**"You must swear that you will not tell a living soul, Don Diego," García said, moving his**

**eyes from the don back to the soldiers.**

**"I promise," said Diego. "Besides I will be going home after a few drinks."**

**"Well, Capitán Monastario is going to try to capture Zorro."**

**Diego laughed. "Again? Isn’t he always trying to capture Zorro?"**

**"Shhh, Don Diego. This is important. The capitán is not going to wait around for Zorro to just show up, he is going to ** _do_** something bad." **

**Diego looked interested. " ** _Do_** something bad? When is he not doing something bad?" **

**García began to look irritated. "Don Diego, will you please be serious. Capitán Monastario is going to whip some of the men in the jail - and for nothing, on purpose. Just so Zorro will ride and try to rescue them. He might even threaten to hang someone. The comandante is determined to do this."**

**"I’m sorry to hear that, Sergeant," said Diego. "We’ll have to buy another bottle of wine. Somehow, drinking wine makes the world seem less bad." He got up and went to the bar and returned with two bottles.**

**The big man sighed. "That is true, Don Diego." His eyes widened as he counted the two bottles on the table. "As a matter of fact, Hugo and Marcos are going to be stationed right off the plaza on their horses to give chase if Zorro escapes. The capitán even wants Colonel O’ Leary to watch what is going on. With his new horse, maybe he could capture Zorro. The comandante thinks that having men on the inside and outside of the cuartel will do the job. At night, not even Zorro could see all the men in wait for him."**

**"That sounds like an excellent plan to capture Zorro," Diego responded as if very impressed. He raised his glass and the three soldiers followed suit. "Well, Sergeant, maybe the comandante will have Zorro to hang at last. With that kind of planning, what could go wrong?"**

*********************************************************************

**Paddy and Rosita sat propped up on the pillows together on the bed. He had his arm around her. He was quiet for a long time.**

**"What did you want to tell me, Paddy?" she asked finally, her dark eyes looking up at him with concern.**

**Paddy sighed mournfully. "I was hoping that this would not come to what it has, sweetheart. Do you remember when I told you about the storekeeper? I talked with his wife just this morning. I’m convinced more than ever that her husband is the man I’m looking for."**

**"Do you really want to go through with this?" The tears began to well up in her eyes.**

**He squeezed her and pressed his head next to hers. He felt the hot tears on her cheek. "I have to find out if he is the one or I will never have any peace," he told her.**

**"But how will you know if it is he or not?" she queried. "Could he not have changed after all these years?"**

**"Even if he has aged one hundred years, I will know who he is," the Irishman declared. Then he softened his voice. "If this had never happened, and I wish that it never had, well, I would never have met you, now would I?"**

**Rosita tried to smile through her tears. She turned her face to kiss him. "Oh, Paddy, I just don’t want anything to happen to you. Not now, not ever." Then she began to cry softly.**

**"I know, little darlin," he said and kissed her in return. "Now, don’t you worry about Paddy. He knows how to look out for himself. He always has and he always will."**

**Both of them lay there in each other's arms and watched the candle burn until the wick finally extinguished itself and the room was left in darkness.**  
  
---  
  
**[Chapter Twenty-four](http://bookscape.net/authors/colonel24.htm)**  
---  
**[Chapter One](http://bookscape.net/authors/colonel1.htm)**  
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	23. The Irish Colonel

The Irish Colonel

_**The Irish Colonel**_

_**by**_

_**Eugene Craig**_  
  
---  
  
**DAY SIX**

**Chapter 24**

**The day dawned bright and sunny with not a cloud in the sky. The sparrows and bluebirds glided from branch to branch, chirping or calling sharply as men passed by below the heavy limbs of the shady oaks. The street dogs raced after each other or followed a stray townsman, begging for a handout, then leaped into the air to catch the tossed morsel.**

**As both men and beasts approached the wide plaza, each seemed to sense something in the air. The dogs halted, sniffed the air, and became cautious. The men heard the sound of wood being hammered and the clink of chains. There was some small commotion and then came the sound of course laughter. Pedestrians headed toward the sounds. They came from in front of the cuartel.** ****

**The tall wooden, iron-bounded gates of the cuartel stood open. On the outside, facing the plaza, a row of stocks had been erected. Soldiers were escorting six men out to the stocks.**

**One of the men stumbled and fell. A soldier kicked him. "Still falling over?" he shouted. "Still drunk after all night in the cells?" A few of the others laughed. A crowd began to gather.**

**Each man was lined up in front of the stocks. Most of them had their chins on their chests. One was a vaquero in leather pants and boots, another was a coach driver. The rest were peons and two were Indians with long hair and leather sandals.**

**Capitán Enrique Monastario came out of his office. As usual, his dress was impeccable and his manner austere and commanding. As the men were lined up in front of the stocks, he strode out of the gate accompanied by Sergeant García. He halted as the soldiers came to attention. He regarded the prisoners with contempt.**

**Sergeant García then handed the comandante a document in a formal way. Enrique Monastario took the document and lifted to read it to those assembled.**

**"By the authority vested in me, as Comandante of the pueblo of Los Angeles, by His Gracious Majesty, King Ferdinand VII, and by the Spanish Army, I hereby condemn the following men to three days in the stocks for ignoring the local ordinances against public drunkenness and for violation of the curfew," he began.**

**While he was speaking, two peons rolled a cart filled with garbage and rotten fruits and vegetables to a respectable distance away in order not to offend the noses of the captain and sergeant. They waited.**

**Patrick O’ Leary heard the commotion from inside the inn where he had just finished breakfast and strolled out to see what was going on. From the porch of the inn, he watched the proceedings as more townspeople gathered before the cuartel. He decided to join the crowd in order to hear what the prisoners’ punishments would be.**

**As he moved into the crowd, Capitán Monastario handed a document to García. The sergeant stood at attention and announced further punishments.**

**"The men you see before you have violated the law on numerous occasions. They have learned nothing from having been jailed for a few days. It is our intention to make them remember their punishment so that they will learn from their crimes and wish to avoid it in the future.**

**"It is hereby decreed that the public shall join in their punishment and show that they, too, uphold law and order. We invite you to join in and teach these men that not only are their crimes unacceptable to all, but that everyone agrees with their punishment."**

**The big sergeant paused and turned half–way toward the cuartel. "Within the walls of the cuartel are two other mis-cree-ants," he stumbled over the words as if he had not rehearsed them very well. "These men are guilty of gross violation of the curfew, of disrespect to their betters, of repeated insubordination to the lawful established authority, and of sedition."**

**He stopped and looked up at the crowd. He saw the Irishman standing in the crowd, shaking his head. Capitán Monastario had to prompt him. "Go, ahead, Sergeant," he said. "Continue reading."**

**"For these more serious crimes, these two men are condemned to 100 lashes for two days. This will be followed by a sentence of seven years of hard labor. The first one hundred lashes will start this morning." With that, the sergeant finished reading the document, rolled it up, and handed it back to the captain. Both then exchanged salutes. The captain then headed back into the cuartel with a satisfied look on his face.**

**Sergeant García then gestured the two peons with the garbage carts forward. When they got about ten feet away from the men in the stocks they halted. García paid each of them with a few coins.**

**Two soldiers donned some old gloves went to the cart and picked up some rotten fruit and began to throw it at the prisoners. They laughed and continued doing so for several minutes, turning and encouraging some small boys in the crowd to do the same. Some of the boys hesitated, then grinned and picked up rotten tomatoes and a few eggs and threw them at the prisoners. Their laughter began to fill the air along with ‘splot,’ splot’ as the food and garbage found their targets. A few other townspeople came forward and joined in the spectacle. Most of the crowd watched and then slowly dispersed.**

**Paddy O’ Leary made his way over to the sergeant who stood next to the open cuartel gates with a glum look on his face. "’Morning to you, Sergeant," he said in a sarcastic tone of voice. "I trust you are enjoying yourself today."**

**The big man looked very uncomfortable. "Don’t blame me, Colonel O’ Leary," he replied. "This is not my doing. I know some of these men. They are not really bad men."**

**"It is one thing to lock men in the stocks," the Irishman fumed, "but it’s another thing to put on a show like this. This is disgusting!" He shook his head. "What did you say those two men inside were sentenced to? One hundred lashes for two days in a row?"**

**"Sí, Señor Colonel," sighed García. "Capitán Monastario thinks in big numbers, not small ones."**

**"If you don’t mind, I’d like a word with him," O’ Leary said with some heat. "One hundred lashes by itself is a death sentence."**

**A few moments later, the colonel was ushered into the comandante’s office. Capitán Monastario was looking out the window observing the two men being tied to the lashing posts. He smiled when the Irishman entered the room in an agitated manner. "What’s troubling you, Colonel?" he asked.**

**"I think you know very well what it is I have to say, Enrique. Sentencing men to the stocks for three days is a fine provocation by itself, but then it’s getting rather messy and smelly out there for the public. The smell might just blow in here as well."**

**"Is that all, Paddy?"**

**"Damn your eyes, man," he exploded. "Sentencing men to one hundred lashes for two days in a row? What do you want? Corpses? A hundred lashes is a death sentence!"**

**Enrique Monastario raised his eyebrows as if in surprise at the Irishman’s rebuke. "Calm yourself, Paddy. You and I both know that dead men serve no purpose." He smiled. "Besides, if word of the two hundred lashes can send you charging in here, just think how well it will lure Zorro." He smirked. "Let me get you a drink." He picked up a glass.**

**"No thanks," replied the Irishman. "Save it for later tonight."**

**The captain put the glass back down. "Very well, Colonel. Why don’t you just come by after our operation is over with. There are other things to discuss as well."**

**"Other things?" asked O’ Leary, raising his own eyebrows. "Just what did you have in mind?" He didn’t like the implication of the captain’s words.**

**"Let’s say that it involves a man whose future you seem interested in," Monastario replied. "But let’s leave it at that for now. I am sure that you have much to attend to today, and so do I." He opened the door for this guest. "We will speak again this evening. Good day, Colonel."** ****

***************************************************************** ****

**After the Irishman left the cuartel, one of the soldiers knocked at the door of the comandante’s office. Capitán Monastario opened the door. "Are you finished?"**

**"Yes, Capitán," the man replied. "Both men have been secured."** ****

**The officer stepped out into the cuartel and walked over to the two men who had been tied, each between two rounded timbers. He looked over the first man who had lowered his head at his approach. "So, you still have nothing to say?" Monastario mocked him. "Perhaps a taste of the whip will make you a little less forgetful."**

**"Please, Capitán Monastario," the man began in a quavering voice, "I do not know the answer to your questions. I wish that I did. I would tell you if I knew, but I don’t. What could I possibly say to convince you?"**

**"But, you ** _do_** know," insisted the officer. "And a taste of the whip has always restored the memories of some men. When we finish, I want you to tell me about everyone and anybody who could be connected to this case."**

**The man groaned softly in anticipation but Monastario only smiled. He walked over to the second man. This man was defiant. He looked the officer in the eye and did not avoid his stare. "And what does this pig have to say to me?" Monastario asked sarcastically.**

**The man was not only defiant but he gave the captain a look of infinite superiority. Monastario knew the look well. He had seen it in the faces of hundreds in Peru and Venezuela: the men who thought that they were morally superior to the Loyalists, that their beliefs, their actions and even their lives were answerable to a higher calling. One of his superiors had called them "the True Believers" and said that they would rather die than turn informer or live in the shame that they had talked. They were not only dangerous, they had to be dealt with. This is why he had been appointed comandante. And he would deal with them.**

**The man gritted his teeth and spat at the feet of the officer. "I have nothing to say to you, Capitán - not now and not ever. I defy you."**

**Monastario smiled. He spoke softly. "By the time I get through with you, you will wish that you had cooperated. There is nothing worse in this world than treason against His Majesty. You may have gotten away from us in México, but here in Los Angeles you are a cornered rat. We know who you are and who your friends are. You are just the first and you will not be the last."**

**With that, he turned to the soldier who stood waiting. He walked away so that the prisoners would not overhear his instructions. "Let them sweat a bit in anticipation. Don’t begin the treatment until it gets hot," he told the soldier. Then he added, "Just twenty lashes for that one. A little pressure and he will begin babbling anything." The soldier nodded. The officer indicated the defiant prisoner. "Give that pig the full treatment."**

**********************************************************************

**Paddy O' Leary walked the streets of Los Angeles and watched the people come and go from their humble quarters as well as others from their finer homes. His mind was on one thing: his visit to the general store.**

**He thought out various scenarios: his entry, looking for a gift, meeting the man and, at first seeing a man, like any man, just a storekeeper, a refugee. Then, there was another scenario - he would enter the store, the man would see him and either fight or flee. They would battle and he would kill his adversary. Perhaps neither would recognize the other, and perhaps he would be looking through the goods and the man would appear from behind the curtain, a pistol in his hand and then…Paddy stopped himself. _Stop speculating_ , he admonished himself. _Nothing is certain in this world. Rosita would want me to think differently - that it's all been some kind of strange coincidence. But something in the very marrow of me bones tells me that this is the time and place of final reckoning_.**

**He turned his footsteps back toward the plaza. Before he even had time to think any more about it, he was walking through the entrance of the store. The merchandise passed by him in a haze and his eyes sought out a man. There were a few customers in the store already, both men and women. He had not thought of the bystanders, but they would not matter.**

**One of them greeted him from behind and he turned to see the smiling face of Señora Pastora who had missed the church auction but was now much recovered from her illness. "Colonel O’ Leary," she said in a cheery voice. "How very nice to see you again. I was just talking to Padre Felipe and he told me how well the auction went Saturday and what a fine bookkeeper you are." She noted that he had a pistol in his belt. "Oh, my," she observed, "are you traveling out of town today? I have heard that there are bandits in the hills. It’s a good thing you have some protection."** ****

**Paddy smiled in good humor, as if death were the last thing on his mind. "How observant you are, Señora Pastora," he told her. "Yes, I’m traveling out of town this afternoon and I might not be back until quite late."**

**"Are you looking for something special today at the store?" she continued conversationally.**

**Roberto Cárdenas was headed to the front of the store, when he heard O’ Leary’s voice. He stopped in his tracks and listened to the conversation from behind the drawn curtain in the hall that separated the back of the store from the front. He put down the folded shirt he had found for a customer and placed it on a small table. He heard Isabel arranging some items. He ducked into a small alcove used for more storage that had a long piece of cloth covering it.**

**After several minutes, one of the customers called out, "Señor Cárdenas? Oh, Señor Cárdenas, are you back there?"**

**Isabel heard the woman call. She looked up. "Roberto? Roberto are you still back here?"**

**There was no answer. She walked out of the back room, down the hall and emerged through the curtain. Out in the store, she looked around quickly for her husband. He was nowhere to be seen. She saw that customers needed waiting on. She came forward. "Hello, can I help you?" she asked.**

**After she passed, Roberto quickly made his way to the staircase that took him to their living quarters on the second floor. He closed the door and saw his son playing with some wooden soldiers on the floor.**

**"Hello, Papa," the boy greeted him. "Did you forget something?"**

**Roberto went over to the boy and sat down on the floor with him. "No, Pedrito. I just wanted to come and lie down a spell. I feel very tired." He was quiet a moment. "What kind of game are you playing? It looks like the soldiers are lined up for action. Are you playing the Spanish against the French again?"**

**Down below in the store, Señora Cardenas was at a loss to explain where her husband had gone. She found the shirt on the table in the hall and took it back to the customer who was very pleased and bought it. Then she waited on Señora Pastora and finally turned to the Irishman. "How good of you to come by," she told him. "I mentioned to Roberto that you might come by today and that you would be looking for a special gift for someone. He was here just a few moments ago. I can’t imagine where he might have gone. It must have been quite sudden. He should be back at any moment."**

**When O’Leary told her that it was not that important, she insisted on helping him. "What is it that you are looking for?"**

**"I’m looking for a leather sheath for an old knife," he told her. "It’s very special, though, and it’s quite old."**

**She looked through their merchandise and found knives but nothing he could identify that would fit the description of his blade. "Perhaps the leather maker could fashion something special for you," she suggested. "He does very fine work as a saddle maker, too."** ****

**Paddy was quiet, his mind on other things. When he saw that she was eyeing him rather curiously, he perked himself up. "Perhaps you are right. I just want to look around a spell to see if anything else suits me. Thank you for looking."**

**Isabel smiled and turned to the next customer. How odd, she thought. It seems as if his mind were leagues from the store. She shook the thought away and was barely aware of his wanderings up and down the floor. She didn’t even notice when he left the store.** ****

***********************************************************************

**Capitán Enrique Monastario smiled at his reflection in the mirror and thought that his plan was a good one. He told Sergeant García to prepare King, his white stallion, and to make sure his boots were polished. It was true that traveling by carriage would be more appropriate for making social calls, but the carriage he had ordered with the Spanish coats of arms painted on the outside, had not yet been finished. He was very impatient for its arrival. The leather-padded seats would be very comfortable and the hangings were to be top quality. Such a coach would be seen as the very symbol of his authority and power. Ah, but he would have to wait just a little while longer. And it would be well worth the wait. When he traveled the roads outside Los Angeles in the future, there would be no doubt among the multitudes who their master was.**

**"Is there anything else, mi Capitán?" asked García as he watched the captain adjust his belt and attach his sword.**

**"Yes, García," the officer replied as he reached for his hat. "Just be sure to start the whippings when it gets hot."**

**"Sí, Comandante," the sergeant replied reluctantly, trying not to reveal his feelings.**

**"And Sergeant, when I get back late this afternoon, I want to find that these orders have been carried out."**

************************************************************************ ****

**Paddy set out on Erin for the Torres’ hacienda in the late morning. He took a number of detours alongside the road, scouting out possible tree groves that would make a good hiding place at a moment’s notice. He took note of the gullies that could be used for the same purpose, and thought that Zorro had to have a hideout that was far enough away to be secure, but close enough that he could show up fairly quickly.**

**The colonel had found out, in his many conversations, that Zorro had been seen riding the El Camino Real as well as making his way down the hills in numerous locations. Some of his passages would have put him on some of the lands of the rancheros and hacendados like the Villas, the De la Vegas, and a few others. He could be a vaquero of any of these landowners or he might even be a landowner himself. Paddy had been impressed with the man’s manner of speaking, something that bespoke intelligence, thoughtfulness, education, and likewise, cunning in the field.**

**The sun was high overhead when he decided that the time was right to call on Elena Torres. He might be a little early, but he would take his time and enjoy the plants and the cool of the hacienda and to think further on his unavoidable encounter with Roberto Cárdenas.**

********************************************************************

**She opened the door herself and a smile spread across her face. She wore green again and it was a green that matched his eyes. He smiled in appreciation and bowed.** ****

**"How good of you to come today, Don Patricio," Elena Torres told the red-haired man and gestured him inside. "I made some fruit juice and Ana will bring out a little bite to eat."**

**"It is a beautiful afternoon. I trust that your parents are well," he responded, looking around for the master and mistress of the house.**

**"Mother and Father will be here in just a little while," she explained. "I am glad you came by early because it will be a warm afternoon."**

**While the juice was being poured, Paddy started thinking about how Roberto Cárdenas managed to disappear at just the right time. His wife seemed genuinely puzzled by his absence. Then, on the other hand, maybe it was coincidental. But on the other hand, there were too many coincidences taking place.**

**"Don Patricio," he heard her say as if she was repeating herself. She had a concerned look on her face.**

**"I’m very sorry," he answered. "I’m afraid I was distracted by a thought for the moment."**

**She smiled, nonetheless. "It happens to the best of us. You know, Don Patricio, I have the feeling that something is troubling you. I wish I could be of some help."**

**"Is it that obvious?" he asked. "If so, then I’m embarrassed. I came out to see you today and I only wanted to think about you and your fine family."**

**She poured him some more juice. "You know, you help people so much. You care about people, Don Patricio. You are a man after our own heart - and mine. But you might need some help, too."**

**He sighed. "You are right. There is something that has been troubling me lately. I don’t wish to burden you with anything that happened in the remote past, but I have an old wound from the war."**

**When she expressed concern about that, he thanked her again. "It’s not a physical wound," he explained, "but a memory – a memory of a great wrong that was done to a great many men. I have found a big piece to the puzzle that has eluded me for many years. At least, I think I have found it."**

**"Is the key to the puzzle here in Los Angeles?" she asked.**

**He nodded. "I believe it is the key at long last, but I need to make sure. I would not want to wrong an innocent person."**

**"Don Patricio," she asked hesitantly, "does this wrong have to do with…. with Capitán Monastario?"**

**"I wish it were that simple," he replied. "No, he is not involved in this situation. Oddly, though," he mused, "it seems to be such a small world that we find ourselves in, where men are linked by events from the past, even the comandante. How strange, that in this place, our histories cross and crisscross again. It makes you wonder if there’s some grand design in all of this."**

**Elena watched him sip the juice and put the glass down. He was quiet a while as if lost in thought again. She felt a wave of compassion for him flow from her inner being and was very conscious of it. It was because he was a good man, she thought. "I would like to think that perhaps there is a purpose to all this," she said softly, "for all things come full circle sooner or later. And when they come, we must face them and resolve them."**

**"You’re very wise for your age," he smiled.**

**She blushed slightly. "I can only blame my parents for any wisdom I might have."**

**"You don’t give yourself enough credit," he observed. Then he stood up. "Would you forgive me if I leave early? I would like to come back again when I am more myself."**

**"Of course. Let me see you out to the patio." She was disappointed that he was leaving so soon.**

**Out in the patio, the red geraniums spilled out of their pots and the white lilies reached their long stalks up toward the sun that peeked at them through the limbs of the oak tree that shaded the entrance to the hacienda. He was almost at the gate, when he turned back towards her. "Elena," he began, almost hesitating, "forgive me, but…"**

**She stood only a foot away from him. She looked up into his troubled eyes in expectation. "Yes, Paddy?" she responded.**

**He put his arms around her and hugged her for a long moment, pressing her head against his chest. She put her arms around him and hugged him in mutual embrace. She then looked up at him. He smiled gently and kissed her lightly. She returned his kiss without hesitation and then smiled back at him.**

**Neither of them noticed the door to the patio opening. In the doorway stood a slim figure in a military uniform with a sword at his side. The bright blue eyes took in the scene before him and he frowned. A sudden gust of wind slammed the gate shut as if to announce his presence.**  
  
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**[Chapter Twenty-five](http://bookscape.net/authors/colonel25.htm)**  
---  
**[Chapter One](http://bookscape.net/authors/colonel1.htm)**  
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	24. The Irish Colonel

The Irish Colonel

_**The Irish Colonel**_

_**by**_

_**Eugene Craig**_  
  
---  
  
**DAY SIX**

**Chapter 25**

**Bernardo flicked the whip over the horse’s ears as he drove the buggy into town. Already the word had spread about the men in the stocks being pelted with rotten food by the soldiers. Even some of the townspeople had joined in. Bernardo shook his head. He had to see this for himself.**

**As he drove into the plaza, he saw six men in stocks. Their hands were through openings just far enough from their faces that they could not protect themselves from the flies that swarmed about their heads and landed on them. The best they could do was flail their hands or wrinkle their noses. Some even tried to blow the pests away, but all to no avail. With the early afternoon breeze, the smell was pungent.**

**Bernardo pulled the buggy over to the far side of the plaza and tied up the horse. He then made his way across the plaza to see if he knew any of the men. He recognized one of the cocheros at once and then, one of the vaqueros. He did not know the Indians and did not recognize the peons due to the filth on them. He noted a few townspeople who watched the men in the stocks from a distance and who spoke in hushed terms. There were a few who stood closer and shouted insults to the unfortunates, but most people seemed to be avoiding going beyond the central well.**

**Bernardo made his way to the entrance of the cuartel. The two soldiers on duty looked bored and casually watched him. He looked inside, stretching his neck as if interested in getting a good view. They did not move to stop him.**

**Within the cuartel he saw two men tied up with ropes to stakes. Each man had each arm tied to a wooden post. One man seemed to move between one post and another to release pressure on one arm at a time. The other man just stood there glowering. A soldier walked by both of them caressing a whip.**

**The first man asked the soldier for water. The soldier picked up a wooden drinking cup, poured water into it, and then threw it in the man’s face, laughing. The second man admonished the soldier for his actions. The soldier struck him across the face. The man kept his balance, but Bernardo saw the trickle of blood from his nose.**

**The sun was beginning to warm up considerably and Bernardo turned to one of the soldiers with his arms upturned in a question. One soldier laughed at the other. "Look, the deaf and dumb one wants to ask you a question, Hugo."**

**The soldier named Hugo turned toward the small man in the brown mozo’s outfit. He raised his eyebrows. "It’s Don Diego’s servant, Bernardo," he commented. "I don’t know if I can make him understand or not."**

**Bernardo pointed at the two men inside and gave a big shrug. The soldier thought a few moments before responding. As he gestured he spoke.**

**"They are going to be whipped," he told the "deaf" man. He propped his rifle up against the wall and then stepped back. He stretched out an arm and pretended to be flailing something.**

**Bernardo nodded in understanding. He pulled out his watch and pointed to it.**

**"Ah," remarked the soldier. He pointed to the sun, removed his hat, wiped his brow, and put on an expression being very tired. "When it gets hot."**

**Bernardo nodded again. He gestured with his arm as if whipping something then spread his fingers to show the number five. Then he pretended to whip again. When he finished, he smiled and raised his eyebrows. The soldier frowned, not understanding what he meant. Bernardo nodded and began his action again – pretending to whip something then held up both hands to show the number ten.**

**"I’m not sure what he means," said Hugo to the other. "Maybe he thinks five or ten will be whipped." He shook his head at the servant.**

**Bernardo held up a hand and thought a moment. He had an idea. He began to whip an imaginary figure, stopped and showed a finger. Then, he repeated the action again. He held up two fingers. Then repeated the action for three, and so on.**

**"I can’t make heads nor tails of that," said the first soldier. "Just tell him to get out of here."**

**But the soldier Hugo was intrigued. "Wait a moment. Maybe he wants to know how many blows they are going to get." He indicated one man and flashed two hands fully spread at him. He then pointed to the other, knelt down and wrote a one followed by two zeroes in the dirt with a gloved finger.**

**Bernardo gave a look of amazement at the number one hundred in the dirt. He raised his eyebrows to Hugo. The soldier nodded, pointed at the defiant prisoner and back to the number in the sand again.**

**Bernardo shook his head in wonder, gave a gesture of thanks, and ambled away.**

**The two soldiers were satisfied. "Looks like we got through to him!" said the first.**

**"It’s not easy," replied Hugo. "You need a lot of patience."**

**"Ha, not me," his companion replied. "Having to do that on a regular basis would drive me crazy. Who would want a deaf mute as a servant? More trouble than they are worth, if you ask me."**

**Hugo shrugged. "Maybe the fellow’s honest."** ****

****************************************************** ****

**"Ah, good afternoon, Capitán Monastario," said Paddy after he finished hugging Elena a good-bye. "I’m afraid my visit has come to an end for the present."**

**Enrique Monastario’s eyes narrowed as he saw Elena reluctantly drop her hands from around the Irishman’s waist. He was privately furious to see O’ Leary moving very fast into a domain that he had staked out as his own. However, for the present, he would be civil to both of them. "I trust I am not interrupting anything important," he responded smoothly. "I am here to see you as we discussed yesterday," he said to Elena.**

**Paddy smiled at Elena in an amused fashion. It was apparent to him that she much preferred his presence to that of the comandante.**

**"Don’t leave just this moment," she pleaded almost inaudibly as the garrison commander began to walk toward both of them.**

**He nodded. "Oops," he said. "Now look what you’ve made me do. I’ve even forgotten me own hat."**

**"Good afternoon, Paddy," Enrique said in a pleasant tone. "Don’t tell me that you must leave so soon."**

**"Today is a full one. Another day would be better," O’ Leary replied.**

**"You will join me in a smoke, will you not?" the officer insisted pulling out two cigars from his jacket pocket.**

**"Won’t you two have a seat?" Elena injected. "I’ll get us some refreshments." She turned to hurry back inside. She did not want Paddy to leave without her parents being present and they were running uncharacteristically late this afternoon.**

**Both men sat down in the chairs and drew in on the cheroots leisurely. Monastario found O’ Leary rather preoccupied and thought that he might be able to use it to his own advantage. He studied the red-haired man sitting next to him a few moments between puffs on the cigar. Finally he spoke. "You know, Paddy, you are becoming a bit, how should I put it, scattered, in your pursuit of social popularity."**

**"Why don’t you leave the questioning of my methods until after tonight?" O’ Leary retorted dryly. "Popularity is not something I actively pursue, Enrique. It seems to be an end result of my social relationships."**

**"You have a very interesting choice of new friends, Paddy," the officer continued. "They all seem to be members of the opposition."**

**"They are also the most prominent members of the social order, my friend, and one ignores such men at one’s peril."**

**"Just remember to maintain your perspective, Paddy. When push comes to shove and the future of Spain is at stake, whose side do you think they will be on?"**

**"You don’t seem to be too worried about socializing with members of the opposition either," observed the Irishman, "or you would not be bothering to call on Señorita Torres."**

**Before he could reply, Elena Torres returned with Ana, the elderly Indian servant. She brought both wine and a pitcher of juice. She offered the juice first, and when that was consumed, she offered wine. She seemed to be very intent on keeping the Irishman there as long as she could. Finally after much small talk, Paddy stood up to leave. "I’ll get you your hat," Elena said, bowing at last to the inevitable. She left for the sala to retrieve it.**

**Monastario was glad that the Irishman was finally leaving, but upon standing and giving each other polite farewells, O’ Leary remarked to him. "Enrique, here’s an observation, one that might give you some food for thought. Elena has a great deal of apprehension about you and your intentions. Try being a bit more sensitive to her concerns, to her interests, to her heart. It will go a long way."**

**The younger man did not really appreciate advice that seemed to him very condescending. He found himself disliking the man’s observations even though they had proven fairly useful in the past. "You seem to have many answers, Paddy, but you are not the only one who is skilled in the waging of war, regardless of the front it is being waged on."**

**"Is this really about war?" asked the Irishman quietly.**

**Enrique had a retort on his lips when Elena reappeared. He watched her hand the hat to the Irishman, who smiled and bowed to kiss her hand.**

**"Please come again," she said very sincerely. "I’m only sorry Mother and Father missed you this afternoon."**

**"There is always another time," he replied, "and I’ll do my best to make up for my shortcomings of today." With that, he tipped his hat to the comandante and closed the gate quietly behind him.**

**Enrique Monastario turned to the girl and smiled. "Ah, Elena, how nice it is for us to have a friend in common, like Colonel O’ Leary. "** ****

***********************************************************************

**It was mid-afternoon when two men discussed the situation in town in a dark corridor leading to a secret chamber, hidden behind Diego’s room at the De la Vega hacienda.**

**"I see what you mean, Bernardo," said Diego de la Vega as he unbuttoned his fancy vest and handed it to his servant. "Once again Capitán Monastario is crossing the line, but this time it has a new twist."**

**Bernardo nodded his head but still looked worried. He watched as his young master donned the black garb and cape, then, fastened the black scabbard to his belt, sliding the sword into place. He snapped up the black hat from the table as well. "The heat of the day is building fast and I will have to hurry." He paused and reached into the drawer of the table.**

**Bernardo raised his eyebrows when El Zorro pulled out a pistol and proceeded to load it. He put the pistol in his belt.**

**"But Capitán Monastario is not the only one trying out new tactics and strategies today, my friend. El Zorro has a few ideas of his own. Perhaps the comandante will have to learn that it does not pay to be too confident in his methods or his plans."**

**With that, the man in black disappeared down the dark stairs to the hidden caves below where Tornado, the black stallion, patiently waited. In a few moments, a dark shadow emerged from the caves and began to move across the hills toward the pueblo of Los Angeles.**

**********************************************************************

**Elena Torres turned back from the closed gate and faced her visitor. "Capitán Monastario, what a surprise to see you here today. I had expected you later in the week."**

**Before he could respond, she picked up a vase of flowers and showed them to him.**

**"Don Patricio brought these flowers. Aren’t they lovely? He’s quite a gentleman."**

**Enrique Monastario regarded the flowers in an amused fashion. "That’s quite nice, Elena," he said, "but you should be wary of Paddy O’Leary."**

**She looked surprised at that and asked warily, "What do you mean by that?"**

**"Paddy is charming, but he’s a smooth-talking drunkard," the officer continued. "By his own admission, he's not one to settle down. You probably are not aware of the fact that he makes his way in this world by practicing the fine art of picking pockets." He smirked. "Some gentleman. You must have noticed that he is quite occupied today. He is involved in a personal vendetta against old enemies. This vendetta could end in his death."**

**"I do not know about this vendetta," Elena admitted in a concerned voice, "and what you said may be true. But Don Patricio never forgets to think of others. He thinks kindness is more important than instilling fear in others."**

_**So, we’re starting to get frank with one another**_ **, thought the captain briefly. The idea pleased him. He smiled. "Tell me something, Elena. Do you really fear me?"**

**The young woman looked up into his bright blue eyes and thought how nice it would be if they could be as warm and cheerful as the Irishman’s were, but they were not. She thought she should answer him directly so there would be no illusions on either side.**

**"Yes, I’m afraid of you," she responded. "I’m afraid of your intentions against my family, against my Father and my Mother. I’m afraid of your intentions regarding what we have – our lands and my home."**

**Monastario gave a short laugh. "You think that most men are after that, don’t you? You haven’t listened to a thing that I told you the other night. Do you think all men only want to marry you for that reason alone?"**

**"There are always those who will try, Capitán Monastario," she replied in a defiant way. "But I will never marry such a man. I will only marry a man who really loves me for what I am, not what my family has." She felt drained by the strain of such talk, and sat down in a chair.**

**Enrique Monastario removed his hat and placed it on the table. He pulled his chair over close to hers so that he could speak to her without raising his voice and without the Indian woman overhearing him. He took one of her hands from her lap and held it in his.**

**"Elena, I would never do anything to harm you. You believe that, don't you?"**

**The question startled her as much as his taking her hand in his. "I do not know the answer to that question," she replied truthfully. "The only side that you have ever shown me is one of fear, or brutality against others. A relationship between people is usually built upon trust and tolerance, not fear."**

**"You are being unfair to me, Elena. I have not treated you in a way as to cause fear and I do not wish to. A man will often act one way in his official capacity, but can be something quite different in private."**

**"I have a difficult time understanding that concept," Elena responded. "I prefer a man to be what he is at all times and to all people. How can you put on one face to some and another face to others? I hope you will forgive me for saying so, but such an idea repels me. It means that we have to be deceitful in our appearances and in our actions. Such behavior could only raise doubts as to a person’s honesty and integrity. How could anyone really know whether the other was putting on an act or being sincere? Without the qualities of trust, sincerity and consistency how could anyone build loyalty and devotion to anyone else?"**

**"Do you really think I lack these qualities?" he asked.**

**"I am sorry to tell you that, thus far, that is the case," she said quietly. "I hope that you will want to be friends, not just with me, but with my family as well. That is my wish."**

**"I want to be more than just your ‘friend,’ Elena," the officer insisted. He mustered the most sincere and hopeful expression that he could.**

**"Then you will have to prove yourself," she said. When she saw his eyes flash, she feared she had gone too far. "Just be kind," she added.**

**Monastario looked into her mild brown eyes and considered another approach. "You know, Elena, I can be very generous and kind to those I care about. But you must remember that it is the strong people who rule the world. This is reality, whether we like it or not. Those who appear kind or sentimental are destroyed and so one must present an implacable front to that world."**

**When she began to protest again, he held up a hand. "Let me give you a very concrete example, since you doubt me. There are many royal families in Europe who marry, not because they necessarily love each other at first, but in order to keep the peace, and to keep the natural order of society. They build alliances for the good of all. They may not love each other at first, but it is something that grows as they get to know each other."**

**"Do you really think of us – like royalty, then?" she asked, both surprised and amused.**

**"Of course," he replied, as if it was more than obvious. "Don’t you see that it is the same, even here in California, just as it is in Spain?" He became very intense. "You tell me that your family means a great deal to you. If so, you must think not only of your own desires, but how the lands and safety of your family could be preserved through a marriage with me." He paused _._ "You and your family would benefit from this even more than I."**

**"How so?" she asked.**

**"I believe in being frank, Elena. My blood would ennoble you, your family, and any children that would come from our union. It would be an alliance of the elite of Spain with that of California. It makes complete political sense that such an alliance of the nobility, the military, and the land would be an unbreakable one. Surely that is one of the best reasons I can think of for a marriage match between us."**

**Elena was quiet a few moments. _Strange_ , she thought, _for all that he is- he seems to be very sincere about what he believes. The problem is, I disagree so much_. "You know, Comandante, you seem very interested in issues of power. But you have forgotten that for me, and for most women, there is another power that you have not mentioned, and that is the power of love and sentimentality, the power of compassion and caring."**

**She looked down at his hand that held her small one. It was a hand that could grasp harshly or squeeze gently, it could convey warmth or coldness, she thought, depending upon the mindset behind it. Then she looked up into the compelling blue eyes. "Perhaps you think that such things are a sign of weakness or even contemptible."**

**A slight smile played around his mouth. "No, Elena. You are mistaken about that. Such things are appropriate – but for women, not for men."**

**She shook her head. "How can you say that?" she protested. "Men who show compassion and who are sentimental are loved even more."**

**"Not by those who count, Elena," he said with finality.**

**"Everyone matters, whether they are rich or poor," she countered. "Look at the artists, writers, poets, and saints who are all loved for these qualities. Even a king can be loved for these qualities."**

**Enrique Monastario began to feel as though he was not gaining too much ground but he was persistent and kept his impatience under control. "You are so protected from reality that you do not understand that the world is a very brutal place, Elena. I understand why you cannot see my point of view. I trust in time that you will. Perhaps you could if you would learn from my life and from the forces of history that are all around us."**

**"Maybe you are right, Capitán. You speak much about history and politics, about power and bloodlines, but you have never told me anything about your life, or about your family or even if you have dreams or not. These little things matter, you know. How can we agree on anything at all when you reveal so little?"**

**Enrique laughed lightly. "Now we can agree because that is true. I expect that as we get to know each other you will learn much about me and I about you."**

**"Why don’t you start now?" she challenged him.**

**"What do you want to know?" he asked with a smile.**

**"Why don’t you start with your parents," Elena responded.**

**"I do have parents, contrary to popular opinion," he said and his eyes creased in amusement.**

**Elena smiled openly at that. "Do you know this is the first time you’ve ever shown me that you even have a sense of humor?"**

*********************************************************************

**"Good afternoon, Colonel O’ Leary," Don Alejandro greeted the Irishman. "No, I’m afraid Diego is not at home at the present. He probably went into town or is out visiting friends."**

**"I apologize again, Don Alejandro. It was just an impulse to drop by on the way back. I thought Diego might be able to offer an opinion about the situation in town."**

**The white-bearded man became agitated at once. "You mean about Monastario’s latest outrage?" He shook his head. "Throwing garbage at prisoners! It’s more than just juvenile, it’s a deliberate provocation. And what’s worse is the news of the two hundred lashes! How could anyone justify that kind of treatment? This is the nineteenth century, not the fifteenth! We’re supposed to be children of the Enlightenment, not of barbarism!"**

**"I agree with that sentiment," Paddy replied calmly. "Unfortunately, we are also children of the Inquisition, an institution that has still not been abolished. While I do not believe that the comandante will actually carry out the order for two hundred lashes, he is doing it in order to lure in el Zorro. He has quite an ambush planned."**

**"I should have known it would be about a trap, Colonel," Alejandro continued, "but, my friend, do not underestimate the comandante’s predilection for extremes and extreme measures."**

**"I was hoping that his show of reasonableness was quite genuine. He told me that he was not interested in corpses when I admonished him over the severity of the sentences this morning," Paddy told him. "He actually believes that by over-exaggerating the sentences, it will lure in Zorro even sooner."**

**Alejandro de la Vega was silent a long moment. He genuinely liked the Irishman and felt him to be an honorable gentleman. Although he had his suspicions concerning the colonel’s friendship with Capitán Monastario, he would trust his instincts to confide in him a bit of knowledge that would lend gravity to the situation.**

**"Don Patricio," Alejandro began, after gathering his thoughts, "would you please have a seat? There is something that I would like to tell you about one of the men who is being sentenced to the lash. If you know this, then perhaps you can see something more from our perspective here in Los Angeles."**

**"Regarding Capitán Monastario?" asked the Irishman.**

**"Yes," replied the don. "And not just about Monastario. This is about the kind of Spain that we want to owe our allegiance to, and our vision for building a better future here in California."** ****  
  
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**[Chapter Twenty-six](http://bookscape.net/authors/colonel26.htm)**  
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**[Chapter One](http://bookscape.net/authors/colonel1.htm)**  
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	25. The Irish Colonel

The Irish Colonel

_**The Irish Colonel**_

_**by**_

_**Eugene Craig**_  
  
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**DAY SIX**

**Chapter 26**

**Sergeant Demetrio García López looked up and squinted at the sun. It was almost mid-afternoon and the comandante had given him specific orders about the prisoners. The private with the whip was waiting the word and the big man had to reluctantly give his approval at last.**

**García wished that Corporal Reyes was there. They often shared the good times and it would help to share the bad ones as well. But Reyes was on an errand for the comandante and would not be back until later. García thought about how to start. At last he spoke.**

**"Well, Private, since this prisoner has to receive the most lashes, start with him. After about twenty, then switch to the other one and give him ten. That way we won’t have to do it all at once."**

**To his surprise, the defiant prisoner spoke up. "Sergeant, it would be best to just get this over with. It’s harder on someone to interrupt a punishment and then go back to it again."**

**"But, Señor," began García, "one hundred lashes all at once is very hard to endure. If we split them up, it would give you a chance to recover, a chance to rest."**

**"I see that you are a decent fellow," the man observed. "Too bad you were not in ** _my_** regiment. However, the capitán is determined to kill me, so why prolong the inevitable? It is more kind to carry out an execution all at once rather than drag it out."**

**García sighed sadly. "As you wish, Señor. I regret that I must do this."**

**The man nodded. The few hours remaining in the afternoon would seem like a lifetime, but after a while, it would no longer seem to matter.**

**********************************************************

**Enrique Monastario sipped the lemonade and paused to watch Elena Torres look past his shoulder toward the patio gate as if she had heard something outside. He knew she was anxious for the arrival of her parents to interrupt his visit and he was grateful for their delay. He had never had the opportunity to corner her before and this was a very comfortable setting upon which to pursue and trap the object of his desire.**

**"I’ve already told you about the present dangers here in California," he continued, "but I assure you that, despite the harshness of the world, you will not need to face this kind of world alone. I will protect you from all the unpleasantness."**

**"How can you do that?" she asked quietly.**

**"I am a man much used to taking on the burdens of command and I have been entrusted to do so by the Crown," he answered. "Not everyone can do this."**

**The patio was quiet. A group of sparrows flew into the vines that covered one of the walls and began to chirp.**

**The officer indicated the birds with a gesture and a nod. "I am sure that you have had many suitors, Elena, but they cannot offer you what I can. Many will sing, but none can deliver." He smiled and put down his drink. "I see that you still doubt me. Perhaps I can point out to you that a man can often express his love for a woman by protecting her."**

**"And what do you demand in return for this protection?" Elena responded. "It seems that there is always a price to be paid. What would you want from me?"**

**"I ask no more than any man would, Elena. I am not unreasonable. Surely, you must admit that. The only thing a man requires is the unconditional loyalty of a woman. Her love is unconditional because she understands that in order to face the world and make the decisions that need to be made to preserve our civilization, such a marriage requires this."**

**"And the man’s loyalty to his wife?"**

**"It is the same, Elena. I am not a skirt chaser. Once I decide on the right woman, then she is the only one. You will never have any cause to doubt me."**

_**I suppose I ought to be gratified,**_ **she thought to herself. "You told me a few moments ago that sentimentality is not respected in a man. But I know a man from a very different walk of life. His life has been difficult or even cruel, but he still manages to show tenderness and kindness to everyone he knows. He is one of the vaqueros on our estate."** ****

**"That is fine," responded the officer, " but he will never be anything but a vaquero."**

**Elena hesitated slightly. "I think you are missing the point."**

**Enrique Monastario sighed audibly. "My dear, you are belaboring the subject matter. Surely your friends, and especially your parents, understand that you need to marry above your station in life. If you care at all about the future of your children and a better life for them, then you will do so." He never seemed to tire of driving home his main point. "We live in a harsh world and we have to be realists. But that does not mean the life of our children will have to be the same as ours. I hope very much, that it would not have to be the same for them." He looked very thoughtful for a moment, as if thinking about his own childhood.**

**"I would like to think so, too," she responded quietly, "but as parents, we must be good role models for our children. How could the children ever understand why their father would be so harsh to others while being, hopefully, kind to them? Would you discipline children or even a wife the way you do the soldiers or Spain’s enemies, if there are disagreements? It is important to know the answers to these and many other questions."**

**The young officer studied her a moment. "I do not have the answers to all those questions at the present, Elena. Like I said before, I hope that the future would not be the same as the present. Actually, I have never had the time to be interested in children and, besides, it is a woman’s business to take care of that. It is a bit premature to discuss having children and what to do with them." He released her hand and she made an effort to move it back to her lap casually as if there had been no offense in the taking.**

**The comandante’s sharp blue eyes were quick to notice the interest that the elderly Indian woman was taking in their conversation although she could not have heard most of it from her seat in the shade by the door. Nevertheless, her eyes betrayed her concerns for her young mistress, knowing that the family did not care for the visitor who had shown up so unexpectedly. She stood up and silently disappeared through the door into the sala.**

**Elena was persistent as well. "I bring these matters up in order to give you something to think about. Marrying me is not just about living in a big hacienda and driving about in a fancy coach: it is the responsibility to others less fortunate than we are and making a kinder world by our own actions. If anything," she added, "the Savior Himself should be a model for our behavior and we should conduct ourselves as He did."**

**The officer’s look was surprising mild as he tapped his boot against the side of the table. "You know, Elena, there is nothing wrong with having an ideal, but you should remember how the Savior was rewarded for His kindnesses: He was crucified. That should be a lesson to all men."**

**Elena responded, "Once again, you miss the point. It was men who crucified Him, not God."**

**"Exactly," responded Enrique energetically. "And it is men who crucify each other as well. To be strong, to maintain the power of the state and those who decide best for everyone else, one must be harsh in order to prevent injustices, to prevent crucifixions – of people just like you, Elena."**

**"Why, that’s nonsense," she exclaimed. "Such an example is to be emulated, not to be rejected. We face such trials and tribulations as the ultimate test of our character and of our worthiness. Therein lies our strength, not weakness."**

**Monastario waved a hand. "I’ll drop the subject matter, but before I do so, you need to remember this, Elena: what happened to the aristocrats in France – most of them innocent – who died at the hands of people like the vaquero you describe? Men, women, even children – massacred, mutilated, guillotined. We must prevent that sort of thing from ever happening again. The Republicans are trying to arouse the rabble against law and order and every time they do this, people die needlessly. They do not seem to understand that by releasing the forces of chaos and rebellion, they set the stage for injustice to occur. That is why I oppose the politics of your father, Elena. Surely, you do not want his own ignorance of the forces he may unleash to end up hurting other people. Surely you want to stop injustice."**

**The dark-haired young man watched her uncertain and uncomfortable reaction. When she did not answer him immediately, he continued. "You think me harsh, but you need to know that those in rebellion against Spain, especially those here in the New World, only see themselves as moving up to occupy the niches of those they would kill or drive away. Why shouldn’t we protect our interests from such rabble? What makes our rule worst than what theirs' would become? Why should those of us of noble blood, those of us of culture and an understanding of power, not use our natural superiority over those who lack even the basics? Would you really like to see people like, like Sergeant García, for example, rule over us – a fat, slovenly, incompetent idiot who could not add more than three numbers together at one time?"**

**She was silent, thinking of how nice it would be if everyone could work together for the common good, instead of a world where people hated each other - the better world that her father talked about, that his friends discussed, and that she envisioned for the future. How pleasant it would be not to have the kind of world that Enrique Monastario reminded her of – a world of class hatred, suspicion and strife. "And where would kindness be in such a world where change can never take place because of our fears of servants or slaves?" she asked him.**

**"Should we not learn from the slave revolt in French Haiti," he answered, "where those who had been kind to the slaves were killed out of hand, just as the cruel were? And where white women and children were not spared, despite their innocence. The same is true of the actions of the Indians in southern New Spain. They hate us, Elena, for it is they who put on one face to us, and another to each other. One must not trust Indians, slaves or half-breeds because they covet what we have."**

**Elena shook her head. "I disagree. The ordinary people only want a better life, one that is more just. Justice is more important to them than riches, Enrique Monastario. Not all people in the world are the same – not all people are greedy and cruel. Kind people can be found in all races and in all levels of society. Surely even you can see that."**

**The door between the sala and the patio opened quietly. The daughter of the house looked up at a servant who appeared. In her hands, the young woman carried a platter of fruit, sweets, and a pitcher of tea. She came up to the table. "Your pardon, Señorita Torres," she said. "The day is quite warm. Would you care for some more refreshments?"**

**Elena Torres smiled. "Yes, thank you, Juanita. That was very thoughtful of you." She gave the dark-haired officer a knowing look as the young Indian put down the tray, placed the bowls on table, bowed and left. "Do you see what I mean?" she asked.**

**The young aristocrat indicated that the older Indian woman had left the patio of her own volition and without permission. He asked sarcastically, "Did you summon her, Elena? Or have your own servants attempted to manipulate the situation without you even noticing it?"** ****

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**With a flick of the whip, the soldier stepped up behind the man and soon the afternoon air was filled with the sounds of the rising and falling of a leather lash on a human back. Soon blood trickled down and fell in large drops into the sand.**

**When the whip snapped for the hundredth time, the soldier paused in exhaustion. He had already shed his jacket. The prisoner was inert. García tried pouring water over the man’s face and into his mouth, but it seemed like an effort that was too little and too late. García untied the man to take him back to his cell.**

**Another soldier picked up the whip to take the place of the exhausted one. He now began to apply it to the smaller man who gritted his teeth and tried to emulate his fellow prisoner in not crying out. When the blows hit ten lashes, the whip suddenly jerked out of the hands of the soldier. The private and the sergeant watched the handle of the whip as it flew above him.**

**High on the roof overhead was a dark shadow like that of a giant. The soldier squinted in the sun, then gasped. "Zorro!" he said in astonishment. He suddenly found that he had no ground under him as a powerful blow from a bullwhip knocked him off his feet.**

**García looked up to see a masked man swing down into the courtyard of the cuartel. He was almost relieved and moved forward until he saw that the muzzle of a pistol pointed in his direction.**

**"Sergeant," the masked man warned him. "Don’t move or you will force me to shoot."**

**"I’m not moving, Señor Zorro," the big man assured him. "I only wish you had come sooner."**

**The Fox smiled grimly. "Do not sound an alarm, but get two of your horses – and quickly."**

**The fat sergeant scrambled towards the stables. As he did so, the masked man cut the bonds of the smaller man tied up at the post. "Señor, are you in any condition to ride?"**

**The man nodded. "I can manage, but I fear that Señor Vincente can not."**

**"Then we will need your help."**

**The sergeant and the smaller man struggled as the inert form of the first prisoner was laid across the back of one of the horses.**

**As the sergeant laid a blanket over the unconscious man and secured his hands to the saddle, two soldiers came in through the front gates. They saw a masked man in a black cloak with a pistol pointed at the sergeant and one of the prisoners climbing onto a horse. They looked at each other, drew their swords and charged. "Zorro! It’s Zorro!" they shouted.**

**El Zorro grabbed the fat sergeant. "Come any closer and he will die!" he threatened. They hesitated and stopped in their tracks.**

**The man in black turned to the small man on horseback. "Ride for your lives!" he commanded and slapped the two horses on the rump. The horses bolted and fled through the open gates of the cuartel, startling the two sentries who had been resting in the shade along the outer wall. By the time they had leaped to their feet, the escaping prisoners had rounded the corner of the garrison and were in full gallop as they raced through the narrow streets and out of the pueblo.**

**"Please, Señor Zorro," García gasped. "This is not my fault." By then, the commotion had aroused several soldiers from their quarters and they began to descend into the yard.**

**El Zorro smiled widely and pushed the sergeant into the advancing guards. The huge sergeant brought down three soldiers into a tangled heap as all were knocked off of their feet. García grunted and groaned and decided the safest thing to do was to remain prostrate on the ground.**

**The first two soldiers resumed their attack with swords raised. Zorro advanced and with a sweeping action of his blade parried and thrust. Three swords flashed and darted like the flames of a wild, raging fire, crossing and re-crossing, the clash of steel sounding and resounding, the gleam of the afternoon sun flashing and rebounding off the surface of the weapons.**

**Zorro’s wrist rolled and twisted. In a quick circular movement, he sent one sword flying through the air. The other soldier fell back against his relentless onslaught and made one final effort to thrust his sword into the body of the man in black. Zorro stepped aside bringing his blade full force against the side of the other’s. A second blade was sent careening off into space. Without hesitating a moment, he charged the last soldier coming down the stairs, knocking him over and racing to the top of the stairs.**

**As he reached the top, he leaped up onto the wall and nimbly hauled himself up to the roof, ducking and dancing his way across the top. In another bound, he was down to the stable roof and before the soldiers could take a shot at him he disappeared over the wall.**

**Sergeant García finally sat up and observed the chaos around him and shook his head. Two of the soldiers in the heap finally got their breath back. "Up, up on to your feet, babosos!" he ordered, crawling to his knees and then getting up painfully. "To horse, to horse!"** ****

**Three soldiers ran to the stable and within minutes were racing out of the cuartel. By the time they reached the road out of town, there was no one to be seen. Only a man driving a flock of sheep into town seemed aware that anything was amiss. Reluctantly, they returned to the garrison empty-handed.**

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**The Indian woman, Ana, approached her young mistress and whispered something in her ear.**

**Elena Torres nodded and her heart seemed to lighten at once. She had been told that the servants had spotted the carriage of her parents in the far distance.**

**She turned to the slender young garrison commander who sat near her and now smoked a long, thin cigar.**

**"It seems that my parents will be here in a short while," she told him. "Perhaps my father will have better answers than I do to your arguments."**

**"I am not arguing with you, Elena," the officer told her. "I am merely pointing out some basic facts of life. Once you understand them, you can make up your mind in a logical way, not in a way based on illusions."**

**She shook her head. "You seem like such a cynical man to me," she said. "I have never claimed to have all the answers either. Perhaps both of us need to grow more and become more sensitive to the feelings of the other. That way, we can respect each other’s point of view without feeling angry or sorrowful."**

**"I can agree with that," responded Enrique, getting to his feet. "It is also important that a wife also respect the authority of her husband, rather than challenging it. One is far better off respecting a man of strength rather than one who is weak or indecisive."**

**He picked up his hat. "Do you remember the tyrant, Bonaparte? He had no respect for his adversary, Kaiser Frederick Wilhelm, who was a peace lover. Bonaparte did respect Frederick’s wife, Louise, who was an uncompromising enemy of France. This woman organized the anti-French party and fought the French, even after the Germans had been defeated militarily. She acted just as the Spanish patriots had done. ** _There_** is an example to be emulated."**

**He paused. "Please think about all these things," he asked her in a conciliatory tone. "I am sure that you will come to the conclusion that you can have all the kind and comfortable things in life, knowing that your life will be secure with a husband like me."**

**Elena smoothed her hands on her skirt. "Let us speak no more of these things for now. I would also like to conclude by saying that, when men are cruel and set an example of cruelty, then those who are hurt by this cruelty will respond in proportion to how they are treated. If people treated each other with justice and kindness, there would be far less reason for others to seek revenge."**

**Monastario smiled benevolently. "I must say, Elena, that you are indeed consistent. But your logic is circular. Nevertheless, I want you to know that I respect your desire to be kind to people. I will not stop you from doing that just as long as it does not endanger the security of the state and our lives."**

**"It’s getting late," the young woman in green pointed out. "Perhaps we could continue this conversation at a later date."**

**"I welcome your invitation, Elena," the young officer responded. "But in the meanwhile, consider the fact that these kinds of discussions could go on forever, for a lifetime, as a matter of fact. We could be ** _doing_** something concrete, instead, to make our lives better ones in the long run." With that comment, he kissed her hand, bowed and exited the patio.**

**She heard the gate close and, seconds later, the sound of the hooves of the departing white stallion. Ten minutes later, the carriage of Don Ignacio and Doña Luisa Torres pulled up outside the gate. Already the servants had appeared to open it for them.**

**"I see that you had a visitor while we were out," Don Nacho observed as he and his wife walked through the gate.**

**"Actually, I had two," Elena began. "Let me tell you what happened."**

**"Very well," her father responded. "And when you finish, we can tell you what we saw in town today."** ****

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**Paddy O’ Leary was following the road toward town when he spotted two horses racing along the highway in the distance. It had all the appearance of a get-away and Paddy watched with some interest as the two horses thundered down the road. As he sat back in his saddle, he observed that one of the horses seemed riderless. Then, he saw what appeared to be a sack fall off one of the racing steeds. The first rider turned around and looked back. He seemed to hesitate, then turned his horse back around and stopped alongside the road. He examined the sack. It was no sack. It was the inert form of a man.**

**The first man looked around. The second steed had fled and was further up the road in a meadow. He dragged the body into a shaded gully. Then he began to pour some water into the man’s mouth from a leather pouch.**

**Paddy saw a man on a white stallion approaching in the distance. He recognized the comandante of Los Angles at once by his slim build, the blue and white military uniform, and the glint of sunlight off his saber’s hilt.**

**The man in the gully also spotted the distant rider and abandoned his companion. He mounted his horse and fled into the wooded hills and vales that surrounded the dirt road.**

**As the Spanish officer leisurely traveled the El Camino Real, he spotted a rider coming down the hill to the highway. The officer recognized him at once by the red hair under the black hat. "Ah, Paddy," he greeted the other as he joined him. "Scouting out the land for your pursuit tonight?"**

**"I thought I spotted something odd from the hills above," the Irishman told him.**

**"There's a loose mount in the meadow there," Monastario noted. "Did you see the rider?"**

**Paddy shook his head.**

**They rode along the trail several minutes longer when both spotted the body of a man in the gully alongside the road. Both men urged their horses to the side of the road. The captain dismounted at once and knelt next to the body of the man. His gloved hands turned the man over and a look of consternation came over his face, then he smiled. "He’s still breathing," he commented to the Irishman.**

**The man’s shirt was in shreds and the flies buzzed around his bloody back. He opened his eyes, blinking rapidly in the bright light of the afternoon.**

**"So, I've got you, Vincente, you traitorous pig," the capitán told him in a triumphant tone.**

**The man moaned and looked up into the bearded face of the young officer. As Paddy dismounted and hastened over at the sound of the man's words, the man rolled his eyes and licked his parched lips. Paddy knelt by him and thought that, by his look, he was too far-gone to last much longer.**

**Monastario pulled him up by the collar and put his face within a few inches of that of the man who was not more than a few years older than he himself. "Now, tell me what you know," he hissed.**

**The man smiled strangely, nodding, his eyes shining as with great joy. He whispered what sounded like a name.**

**"What did you say?" Monastario looked startled. He loosened his grip on the man’s collar and straightened up. He looked over at the Irishman in consternation and both men leaned closer.**

**"Mina," the prisoner said again with his last breath. The death rattle sounded, the eyes stayed open and the body went rigid, then slowly relaxed.**

****

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**The corpse of the dead man lay slung over the side of the third horse that plodded in back of the two riders on the road toward the pueblo of Los Angeles. Both men rode alongside each other, one on a magnificent brown stallion and the other on a striking, pure white one, but neither said anything for a long time. Finally, the young officer with the moustache and goatee spoke.**

**"Even in death, they lie," he commented in an agitated manner, his eyes glittering. "Xavier Mina is dead. We got him in México three years ago. Everyone knows that. He disembarked in secret from Spain and began an uprising with the rebels with the help of some riffraff dispatched by the American president Monroe. They thought that they could start a guerilla war against us and seize New Spain."**

**"I remember young Mina," mussed the Irishman. "He was called 'the Student' and was still a youth when he began to lead armies against the French. When they captured him, he was barely twenty-one years of age."**

**"He might have been a hero at first," Enrique Monastario rejoined, "but times changed and he thought he could continue being a rebel after the war was over. All those years of being out of touch with Spanish reality as he sat in a French prison no doubt contributed to his delinquency."**

**"There are rebels, and then there are other kinds of rebels," Paddy stated calmly. "The French made rebels of men from all walks of life, including you and me. But, Enrique, all of us fought for Spain, regardless of our political differences."**

**"I’ve often wondered, Paddy," Monastario said in an unexpectedly mild voice, "why the French did not execute him, but sent him, instead, to France. He had a price on his head. Thousands of troops pursued him. Suchet even announced that he would display his head on a pike. What price did he pay for the saving of his life? What political deal was cut behind the back of Spain?"**

**Paddy became aware of the 'clop, clop, clop' of the horses hooves on the dry dirt road and of the deathly silence in the air before Enrique Monastario suddenly pulled the reins up again and stopped his white stallion in the middle of the road. He was looking straight at the road ahead.**

**Coming toward him at a rapid rate of speed was a black horse. A figure dressed in black with a black cape that flowed behind him as if the very wind itself was trying to hold him back, but to no avail. A black mask hid the face and the two men were in no doubt as to whom they faced on the Royal Highway.**

**"Zorro!" shouted Monastario, his bright blue eyes gleaming in excitement. He drew his saber and urged the white stallion forward.**

**"Monastario!" shouted El Zorro with a wide grin. He likewise drew his sword and continued the charge.**

**The clash of steel resounded as both men began to battle each other along the wide, dusty road that led into the hills outside of the pueblo of Los Angeles.**  
  
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**[Chapter Twenty-seven](http://bookscape.net/authors/colonel27.htm)**  
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**[Chapter One](http://bookscape.net/authors/colonel1.htm)**  
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	26. The Irish Colonel

The Irish Colonel

_**The Irish Colonel**_

_**by**_

_**Eugene Craig**_  
  
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**DAY SIX**

**Chapter 27**

**Paddy O’ Leary sat back on his horse and watched the battle unfold between El Zorro and the comandante of Los Angeles, Capitán Enrique Monastario.**

**"A pity I don’t have me saber," he joked to himself. He marveled at the enthusiasm with which both men battled each other. There was an eagerness and excitement in the air, almost like two grand beasts battling each other, each one believing that he encompassed what was good in the world, and the other, all that was evil.**

**Both men grunted with effort as they made savage strokes, clever parries, and powerful slashes. The horses with their riders circled each other at times or rode almost together as the blades sang.**

**Monastario aimed a powerful blow at Zorro’s head, only to find empty space as Tornado whirled out of the way. The man in the cape laughed and it only infuriated the Spanish officer more. Zorro’s wrist rolled and twisted, engaging and disengaging the swords time and time again.**

**Monastario attempted a hard, straight thrust, but El Zorro caught the blade and rendered it harmless. Two wrists engaged, tried circular entrapments, feints, and strokes.**

**Paddy was enjoying the tournament, as he credited it. But he understood that El Zorro’s strategy was not only to out-duel Monastario, but to out-duel his horse as well. King was a fine stallion, well trained and mild. But the black stallion was younger, swifter, and more aggressive than the capitán’s. Man and horse together might decide the outcome.**

**As the two men clashed their sabers, their horses danced beneath them. Closer and closer El Zorro forced Monastario’s mount to the edge of the road and the to shallow gully that lay beside it. Monastario made a slash at the stallion’s neck and Tornado turned his head. But the blade made contact and cut a line straight across the great black beast’s throat.**

**Tornado squealed in pain, drew up on his hind legs, and kicked out his forelegs. El Zorro quickly turned the animal away. No one expected the next move from the great horse.**

**Hoping to come in around the back for a slashing attack on the outlaw, the captain reined King to the left and then, spurred him forward. At that moment, Tornado kicked out with his back hooves. The iron shoes landed squarely on the great white stallion’s shoulder, barely missing the officer’s right leg. King squealed in pain and stepped backward. It was this step that sent the stallion stumbling into the gully.**

**Enrique Monastario found himself flying through the air and landed with a hard thud in the sandy bottom of the gully. It knocked the air out of him and he lay inert for a few moments before he raised his head, shook the strands of dark hair out of his eyes and looked up to see where his opponent had gone. He saw nothing, but he did hear four sets of hooves take off. One was Tornado. The other was Erin.** ****

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**From all outside appearances, life in the cuartel looked normal. Only upon close inspection could anyone tell there had been an interruption in the normal routine. Several soldiers were nursing bruises and two horses were missing from the stables along with two escaped prisoners.**

**Just inside the gate, a young Spanish captain with a moustache and goatee was busy berating the man he had left in charge for the chaos and confusion he found upon returning to the garrison.**

**"But, Capitán," the sergeant objected. "How was I to know that Señor Zorro would strike this afternoon. You yourself told me that…"**

**"Baboso!" Enrique Monastario interrupted him. "You should have been prepared, no matter what the circumstances. You are a bumbling idiot! You not only let one prisoner escape, you allowed all of them to. How lucky I was able to find this one and bring him back."**

**"Sí, Comandante," García mumbled.**

**"Why did you not have the soldiers pursue the escaped prisoners? Why did you not chase after Zorro yourself?" the young officer continued. "Why is it that I have to do everything myself? Whoever made you a sergeant must have been drunk. Maybe he mistook you for someone who was competent!"**

**"Well, Comandante, I don’t think anyone could mistake me for anyone else," the fat sergeant observed with a raised finger. "I don’t think there is anyone else like me in the entire Spanish army."**

**"Ohhh," the officer moaned and put his hand against his forehead. "One of you is too much as it is! Why did misfortune ever strike me in a person such as you? In all of the garrisons, in all of New Spain, in all of the Spanish empire, why was I saddled with the most imbecilic, the most incompetent, the most slovenly, the most…?"**

**Sergeant Demetrio García López cast his face down. He tried to close his ears to the tirade of his commanding officer. It was not the first time that Señor Zorro had made him look bad to the comandante, but at least no one had lost his life. In fact, Monastario would vent his rage for a while and then, all would return to normal.**

**García sighed and could only nod at the slender uniformed man opposite him who continued to find more adjectives to describe him with than he ever thought possible. He really began to look forward to an evening of wine in the tavern. Now that Corporal Reyes was back, he could tell him what had happened that eventful afternoon. He knew that his friend would be sympathetic to his plight. And Reyes would tell him what Capitán Monastario had had him do in order to hold up the carriage of Don and Doña Torres and to delay their return home.**

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**"But when will you be back, Roberto?" Isabel Cárdenas asked in a tearful voice. "There must be something that has happened to you. Why don’t you tell me what it is? Are you in some kind of danger? And from whom?"**

**Roberto Cárdenas put his arms around his wife and hugged her. "I’m sorry, Isabel. It might endanger your life if I told you. Just as in the old days, it is better that you know as little as possible. I will send word whenever I can. It is all for the best."**

**"I will manage with Pedrito," she responded, trying to be brave, "but what will we tell him? How can I explain to our friends or to María? What if someone begins to ask questions?"**

**"It will be all right," he assured her. "I will be on a long trip. Tell them anything - that my father is dying in Spain and I went back to be at his side. Anything that is plausible is believable."**

**"Are you leaving on horseback or on the coach? How will you hide your departure?"**

**"You will need the horse for the wagon," he mused. "I’ll take the coach so it will appear like a normal departure. But I will board at the last possible moment so that the least number of people will see me depart." He paused. "It might be best not to tell Pedrito until after I am gone. He is very sensitive and might adjust better if you told him that I had to leave right away. Then, he won’t worry. He’ll be with María tomorrow morning, with the other children."**

**"He will miss you Roberto," she sobbed into his chest.**

**"And I will miss him and you," he responded, feeling a great pressure begin to build in his chest. "I will be with him tonight and read him a story, just like I always do. Everything will look normal. That is how I want it to be."**

**"All right, dearest," she sniffed. "I just hope you won’t have to be away for so long."**

**"So do I, " he murmured. "Who knows what the future will portend."** ****

**At the door, a small boy listened through the keyhole. His eyes welled with tears and his small fists clenched in despair as he listened to the conversation in the room. He had not meant to eavesdrop, but he had heard his name mentioned and had been curious. Now his father was going away, maybe for a very long time. And they didn’t want him to know about it. Why? Why didn’t they want him to know? Didn’t his father love him any more? Why was his mother afraid?**

**As he heard their footsteps make for the door, he hastened across the room and fled down the stairs to the store below. It wasn’t quite dark yet. They would not worry for a while. He wanted to be alone with his own thoughts and fears. Where would he go? Who could he talk to?**

**The colors of the evening sunset were fading into pinks and gold, illuminating the few stray clouds overhead. On the horizon, where the sun was beginning to disappear over the hills into the distant ocean, were purple and gray puffs of a distant fog. Already the birds were making for their nightly roosts and the bats preparing for their nocturnal adventures. Soon the moon would rise, and with it, the culmination of the days undertakings.** ****

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**The steady thunder of hooves shook the quiet hills as the afternoon sun began to bid its farewell to the surrounding forests and hills. Over hill and vale two stallions, one an agile black and another a powerful brown kept up their speed, the black ahead of the brown by only one horse length.** ****

**Every once in a while, the man in the black cape glanced back at his pursuer as they road through meadows, leaped over fallen trees and dashed across an arroyo with its trickling stream gleaming in the last rays of sunset. What he saw was a red-haired man with an intense look in his eyes and a grin that matched his own. This was not a chase based upon any hostility, but one that seemed more of a contest, perhaps even a game.**

**Around granictic outcrops and across wide plateaus they ran, dodging in and out of bushes, cacti beds, and weeds they rode. Finally, the black stallion made an incredible leap across a chasm. Paddy did not notice it before it was too late, but Erin sailed across the abyss liked the seemingly winged steed before him. Paddy pulled up the great stallion and slowed down as Tornado continued ahead at full speed. It was almost too dark to follow the bandit now. And even Paddy was aware of the effect of the long ride on his mount.**

**To his surprise, El Zorro reined in Tornado and brought him to a halt. He turned the horse back towards his pursuer and halted at the top of a small rise. He called out to the Irishman: "Colonel, you disappoint me. After this morning’s events, I would have thought that Monastario’s actions would have begun to enlighten you."**

**Paddy patted Erin on the neck and grinned. "Now don’t you be takin’ this personally, Señor Zorro," he responded. "I’ve rather enjoyed seeing the kind of soldier and horseman that you are. Actually, I rather admire you, a man who does not fear to put his life at risk in the defense of his principles."**

**"So you pursued me all this way, just to tell me that?" responded the Fox with an amused look of his own.**

**"You are not the easiest man in the world to have a private word with," Paddy chuckled.**

**"But I am here to say a bit more than just to give you some praise. It seems that Capitán Monastario is out not just to destroy you, but anyone who stands in opposition to his rule."**

**"You are not telling me what I don't already know and what others have said as well," Zorro replied, repeating Paddy's own words to him from just a few days before.**

**"Allow me to finish," the colonel continued. "Monastario told Señora Torres that she will be a widow if Don Nacho does not ‘cease and desist’ with his politics. Señorita Torres and her parents have not shared this information with anyone else. I tell you this because the Torres badly need allies and they are being isolated. I fear for their future, despite Enrique's interest in Elena. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if the De la Vegas are moving into target range as well. Don Alejandro is quite outspoken."**

**"If this is all you wanted to do - tell me this," Zorro replied, as if doubting the Irishman’s sincerity, "Why participate in the planned ambush for tonight?"**

**Paddy O’ Leary was very impressed with el Zorro’s knowledge of the ambush and of his raid to prevent the trap from unfolding. "Oooh, that," he grinned cheerfully. "Enrique likes to think that he can control everything and everybody. He never counts on a man having his own agenda. As for me, I like to see what a man is made of."**

**"Are you satisfied now, Colonel?"**

**"A wee bit, Señor, for now."**

**"And you had no thought of taking me?" challenged the Fox.**

**"Well, if I had, I might have very well done so. You see, I have this pistol here in me saddle holster and I had no intention of using it."**

**"Hmm, you seem to be a man after my own spirit, Colonel. I, too, have a pistol, but I rarely find that I have to use it," grinned El Zorro. "But, tell me this: are you certain that you are wiser?"**

**"The proof will be in the pudding, as we say," Paddy replied thoughtfully, "but speaking of wiser, I’m not so sure that I am. You see, I’m far off the main road and without much of a clue on how to get back. Now, perhaps you’ll be a gentleman, and point out the way. If not, I might be obliged to keep on chasing you the rest of the night. And I might just catch you because your steed needs a good rest after that neck wound."**

**The man in black laughed. "I take it, then, that this is a trade. Very well, Colonel, your terms are reasonable. One can always do business with a reasonable man."**

**Paddy O’ Leary was a bit rueful after he reached the main road. He was only a quarter of an hour’s ride from it. What a merry chase he had been led and he was still no closer to discovering where the outlaw’s hiding place might be. Maybe this was just something that was not meant to be known, at least by him, and at least for just now. And he had business back in town of a much more serious nature to tend to.** ****

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**A small, slender boy walked aimlessly though the darkening streets of the pueblo. For a while he had sat on the edge of the tavern's entrance watching the vaqueros, soldiers, rancheros, and townsmen enter and leave. Tonight he saw no one he could call a friend. No one seemed to notice the boy with the distressed look on his face and, if they had, they might have thought him a son waiting for a drunken father to come out and to guide safely back home.**

**Pedro Cárdenas rose and made his way to the well of the plaza. Crying was something that he did in the dark, or out of sight of any grown-ups. It also made him thirsty and the well would give him an opportunity to wash his face and freshen up. His mother had always done this when she cried and she told him that he needed to do the same if ever it happened to him. But he never really thought he would since he was often the man of the house.**

**He was splashing water on himself, when he heard some footsteps behind him. He turned around.**

**"What are you doing at the well, little one?" asked the giant soldier whom everyone knew as Sergeant García.**

**"Just getting a drink of water and washing my face, Señor Sergeant," the boy answered.**

**"It's getting late. Why are you not at home at this late hour?" the big man observed. "Your parents will be worried."**

**"They won't be worried," Pedro insisted. "They won't miss me at all." There was a little tremor in his voice that the sergeant noticed at once.**

**"Well, if I were your father, I would be worried," the big man smiled, trying to be sympathetic. "All fathers love their children."**

**Pedro's eyes filled with tears. "My father doesn't love me any more," he said in a breaking voice. He turned away so the soldier would not see his tears.**

**"Well, even if that is true, your mother will always love you. Mothers always love their children," Garcia responded, trying to be cheerful. He looked up. "Oh, excuse me, little one. I will escort Señorita Flores back to the inn. She stayed a long time with Capitán Monastario this evening. Do you know her?"**

**The little boy shook his head.**

**"She is a friend of Colonel O' Leary. Look at the color of her dress. It is as red as his hair," the sergeant said in a voice filled with wonder.**

**That comment gave the boy an idea. He followed the fat sergeant as he waddled towards the gates of the cuartel and the waiting Señorita Flores. "Wait, Sergeant García," he said urgently and tugged on the soldier's sleeve.**

**The big man stopped. "What is it, little one?"**

**"Have you seen Colonel O' Leary today?"**

**The big man sighed. "Not since this afternoon. But he should be back soon. It is almost dark now."**

**"Thank you, Señor," the boy responded. He could see that the sergeant had already forgotten him. The little lady in red called Señorita Flores was moving her shoulders in a funny way and the sergeant had a silly smile on his face. Grownups were like that sometimes.**

**Pedro walked across the plaza and made his way toward the edge of town. The moon was shining again and he would be able to make his way back home by its light later on. He could always hide in the shadows should strangers approach. He would wait for the one man whom he trusted besides his father. He was a man who told funny and exciting stories and liked children. He was a man with amazing red hair.**

********************************************************** ****

**Patrick O’ Leary took his time on the road back to town. He thought about how he would finally meet up with the storekeeper, Cárdenas, and what would happen if he turned out to be someone else. He rounded the first corner of the dirt street that would lead him to the plaza and the inn where he was staying. There were few people in the streets now that it had grown dark and the livery stable was at the main plaza. That is where he would drop off Erin.**

**He suddenly pulled up the reins. A small figure appeared out of the shadows. It was a child. He heard the sound of weeping and the small shoulders were hunched. It was a child in distress. He halted and looked down. "Who goes there on such a dark night?" he asked in a friendly voice. "Ooh, maybe it’s an imp, or perhaps a troll. Heaven help me."**

**The small figure halted and looked up. "Colonel O’ Leary?" a boy’s voice asked.**

**"That’s me, lad," he answered cheerfully. "Who’s that? Not Pedrito out at this late hour?"**

**"It’s me," the boy replied.**

**Paddy O’ Leary dismounted from his horse. He knelt down at the boy’s side and put his arm around the boy. "Dear lad, what are you doing out here all alone? Is something troubling you now?"**

**Pedro nodded and wiped his eyes with his sleeve. "Sí, Señor Colonel," he replied in a small voice.**

**"Would you like to talk about it?" the Irishman asked. When the boy nodded in the affirmative, he guided him to the edge of the plaza. There they could sit on a wooden walkway and still see each other with the distant light of the lanterns of the central plaza and the torches of the cuartel shining. He tied Erin up to a post and sat down with the boy. "Tell me what’s happened."**

**Pedrito looked up in the sympathetic eyes of the Irish colonel. "My father is going away tomorrow," he began.**

**"Is he going on a business trip or is he in trouble?" Paddy asked carefully.**

**"I don’t know. This afternoon he shouted at me, then, tonight he told Mother that he is leaving. He told her not to tell me." The tears flowed down his cheeks. "I don’t think my father loves me any more. I….I don’t know why." With that he turned to the Irishman and threw his small arms around the man’s neck and cried.**

**Paddy held the boy close and stroked his hair. "Now, lad, it can’t be all that bad. I don’t believe for one minute that your father doesn’t love you," he responded in a soft voice. "I can’t imagine anyone not loving a fine boy like you." He hugged the weeping boy and caressed his hair until the sobs gave away to sighs and a calm came over the young boy.**

**"You know, Pedrito, I’ve had to leave my own land. I had to leave my family and my friends, but it wasn’t because I didn’t love them. Sometimes a man must leave, even if it is to save his own life."**

**"Papa had to leave Spain, and then Peru and Venezuela because some bad men were trying to kill him," the boy told him. "But that was a long time ago when I was little."**

**"Does your father think that someone wants to kill him here in Los Angeles? Perhaps the soldiers?"**

**Pedrito shook his head. "I don’t know. I don’t think so. The soldiers are nice to us, especially Sergeant García."**

**Paddy thought that getting the boy’s mind off of his troubles would be a good thing, so he changed the subject. "Sergeant García is quite a character, isn’t he? Many people would be afraid of a big man like that, but he’s a friendly fellow."**

**Pedrito nodded. "I heard that he gets in a lot of trouble with the comandante, but not tonight. He was happy."**

**Paddy smiled. "And why was he happy? Was he going for a drink at the inn?"**

**"Tonight he got to walk Señorita Flores back to the inn. She was wearing a red dress. It was as red as your hair." The boy sat back and pointed at his hair with a smile.**

**"Señorita Flores must like his company," Paddy responded humorously. "Maybe she wanted him to watch her dance."**

**"Well, I don’t think so," the boy told him. "She was with Capitán Monastario a long time, until it got dark. That’s when Sergeant García walked with her from the cuartel to the inn."**

**O'Leary was startled at the news. "How do you know this, lad?" the Irishman asked him in a calm voice.**

**"Oh, I saw them. Sergeant García told me that Señorita Flores visited with the comandante a long time tonight."**

**"How interesting," Paddy said lightly, but his brow furrowed. In the dark, the boy did not notice any change in his demeanor. He stood up. "Are you feeling better now, Pedrito?"**

**The boy nodded. "I feel much better, now."**

**"There’s a good lad," the red-haired man said. "Say, would you like to ride on me new horse. His name is Erin and you won't find a finer horse in all of Los Angeles."**

**The boy smiled in the affirmative and the colonel swept him up into the saddle. "Now here's the reins to hold and we'll walk a spell. Tell me, what do you think of Erin? Would you like a horse as fine as this one?"**

**"Is he very fast?" asked the young rider.**

**"As fast as the wind," replied Paddy.**

**"Is he as fast as El Zorro's horse?"**

**Paddy smiled, remembering his recent race. "Well, almost as fast," he admitted. "Now that's not bad at all, is it, being almost as fast? Why I don't think El Zorro's horse could beat Erin by more than a nose. Maybe it would only be half a nose. One day when El Zorro's horse gets old, there's bound to be a horse to beat him and…"**

**Pedrito Cárdenas smiled knowingly as he listened to the colonel. He knew that no horse in all the world could beat the famous Tornado of El Zorro, not even Colonel O' Leary's horse. Everybody knew that, even Colonel O' Leary.**  
  
---  
  
**[Chapter Twenty-eight](http://bookscape.net/authors/colonel28.htm)**  
---  
**[Chapter One](http://bookscape.net/authors/colonel1.htm)**  
**[Zorro Contents](http://bookscape.net/zorrocontents.htm)**  
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	27. The Irish Colonel

The Irish Colonel

_**The Irish Colonel**_

_**by**_

_**Eugene Craig**_  
  
---  
  
**DAY SIX**

**Chapter 28**

**"You know, Bernardo," Diego de la Vega noted as he put down the book on Irish history, "it might be very enlightening to go into town and see the aftermath of Zorro's activities. If Sergeant García is not in the brig, he will probably be in the tavern. Then we can find out what happened and see if we need to do anything more."**

**Bernardo nodded and picked up his own jacket and hat which he began putting on.**

**Diego laughed. "Hmm, you seem to be in a hurry to satisfy your curiosity. All right, let's do it." With these words he rose from his chair and took the hat that Bernardo handed him. Within a few minutes, both men were out on the road headed for Los Angeles.**

**As they headed down the road, they were overtaken by a troop of six soldiers with torches. At their head was Capitán Monastario.**

**"What are you doing out here on the road, De la Vega?" he asked as he road up alongside Diego's palomino. He ignored the servant.**

**"Good evening, Capitán," Diego responded. "It's so boring at home that I thought I would ride into town this evening and see if there is any entertainment at the tavern. What are you doing out here so late?"**

**"We have been looking for an escaped prisoner," the officer responded. "You haven't seen anything or anyone suspicious have you?"**

**"Only you, Comandante," Diego replied in an innocent voice. "Is this man dangerous? Would you be my escort into town? I would be very upset to think a criminal is on the loose. How did it happen?"**

**"Never mind how it happened," Enrique Monastario replied in an irritated tone. "As for an escort, if you want one, you had better keep up with His Majesty's troops, if you can."**

**With that, he spurred his white stallion forward and the troops followed at a rapid pace.**

**"I think we had better hurry to keep up appearances, Bernardo," Diego said as he dug his heels into the horse's side and urged him forward.**

************************************************************************

**"Why here he is," exclaimed Isabel Cárdenas, answering the persistent knock on the door at the back of the store. "Pedrito, darling, where have you been? I've been so worried about you. Your father has been searching for you everywhere. Where on earth did you disappear to?"**

**"I'm afraid it's all my fault," Paddy said. "I've been giving Pedrito a ride on my new horse, Erin. I wanted to convince Pedrito that he is faster than the horse of El Zorro, but I'm afraid we only came in second place."**

**Pedrito looked up at the colonel and smiled. He could see that the Irishman did not want him to get into trouble and would "fib" a little to save him a scolding. But the fib was not a big one and he did get to ride the great brown stallion, although it wasn't very far.**

**"Oh, thank you, Colonel O' Leary," Isabel answered warmly. "How kind you are. You are a true friend to care so much about Pedrito and our family."**

**Paddy felt a pang of guilt as he smiled, bowed to the woman and boy, and bid them a pleasant evening. He knew now that the boy's father was his enemy and he had sworn that he would kill him. He had sworn that he would kill him for the honor of the regiment and for the honor of Ireland.** ****

********************************************************************** ****

**"You should have been here this afternoon, Corporal," Sergeant Demetrio García López was saying as he poured a modest amount of wine in his friend's mug. "Zorro came right over the wall of the cuartel. He snapped the lash out from Martin's hands with a bull whip and knocked him right off his feet."**

**"What did you do then, Sergeant?" Reyes asked with wide eyes.**

**"I charged at him with my sword. He ran around the whipping posts and cut the ropes of the prisoners as he ran. I blocked his way, raising my sword in the air. He ran around the other way, trying to escape me. Here I was, all by myself. All the other soldiers were sleeping or outside of the cuartel. No one seemed to notice that a great battle was happening inside." He took a long drink of wine.**

**"Well, how did the prisoners escape?" asked the corporal.**

**"Despite my heroic efforts to stop them, they managed," the sergeant explained. "It was three against one, stupid."**

**"But the prisoners didn't have any weapons, Sergeant," Reyes pointed out.**

**"What does that have to do with anything?" García grumbled. "By then some soldiers began to notice the noise and charged out of the barracks. They ran so fast that they ran into me and knocked me over. All of us were knocked over. In the confusion, the prisoners took two horses and escaped with the help of El Zorro."**

**"Oh," the corporal replied. He was silent a moment before he asked, "Say Sergeant, wasn't Zorro supposed to attack tonight? Why did he come this afternoon?"**

**"How should I know, stupid? When I see him, I'll be sure to ask him!" García was getting tired of the questions. "Have some more wine, Corporal. At least the comandante left for a little while this afternoon. If he had come back sooner, though, this would have never happened."**

**"I'm not so sure about that, Sergeant," the corporal responded.**

**García thought about that for a moment. "You might be right," he said.**

**A hand suddenly clamped him on the shoulder. "Well, Sergeant," said the voice of Don Diego, "I heard that you almost captured Zorro again this afternoon." He had overheard the sergeant's rendition of the rescue and had to wipe the grin off his face before approaching the two soldiers. Bernardo had turned his back and was laughing silently at the bar.**

**"Oh, good evening, Don Diego," García smiled. "Yes, Zorro barely got away from me again today, but I will get him another time."**

**"You know, Sergeant," continued Diego, "each time Zorro is barely escaping from you with his life. How is it that he manages to get away at the last minute?"**

**García shook his head. "I have often wondered that myself, Don Diego. You must remember that Zorro is very clever. This time he came armed with a bullwhip. He was knocking soldiers over right and left with it. How can you fight a man with a bull whip?"**

**"Uh, Sergeant, I thought you said that," began Reyes with a finger raised to make a point.**

**"Quiet, baboso! Who is telling the story, me or you? Who was there, me or you? Let me tell Don Diego what happened."**

**While García spoke, the door to the inn opened and a grim Paddy O' Leary entered the room. He made for a table near the cold fireplace and sat down at it. He looked very preoccupied. He seemed not to notice anyone else in the room.**

**Diego turned slightly in his chair and looked over at the colonel. He glanced at Bernardo and shook his head slightly. Bernardo nodded. Diego turned back again to listen to García's story.**

**The barmaid spotted the colonel and took a bottle over to him. He looked up at her and smiled and nodded. She put down a mug for him and poured out some wine. She could see that his mind was leagues from the tavern and she left him in peace.**

**Diego was about to excuse himself and head over to O' Leary's table when Capitán Enrique Monastario entered the tavern. He glanced over at the table with the two soldiers and Diego de la Vega, then saw Paddy seated near the fireplace. He hung up his hat and went up to the Irishman.**

**"Good evening, Paddy. May I join you?" the captain asked politely.**

**Paddy O' Leary looked up at the comandante and gestured him to sit down. The captain waved a barmaid over. She brought over another mug and bottle of wine. Both men were silent a while before Monastario spoke.**

**"Paddy, are you going to tell me about what happened between you and the bandit, Zorro?" he asked.**

**O' Leary sighed. "I suppose so, Enrique." He took a long drink of wine. He watched as Monastario sipped his. There was a long silence.**

**"Is something bothering you, Paddy?" the officer asked after a while.**

**"There are a number of things bothering me, Enrique," Paddy responded quietly. "But first, I'll tell you what happened, briefly. The man's horse is like the wind, even with a neck wound. I chased him until it was too dark to follow. There were times in which I was fairly close to him, but the man knows the land like you know your own face and that is a definite advantage. I will give you my analysis in sum. It is my contention that El Zorro is, first of all, a military veteran with the elite corps. As a first class swordsman, you should recognize this. Secondly, knowing the land as he does, he grew up here as a native, and last, he is well-educated and committed to challenging everything he views as injustice, no matter what quarter it comes from."**

**"Tell me something I don't know, Paddy," Monastario snapped. "I'm surprised that your final analysis does not say that this bandit is also a republican, a rebel of the worst political type. Look at the traitors he rode to free. These prisoners are not just petty criminals. They are traitors. Anyone who frees a traitor is one himself!"**

**Paddy took another long drink of wine and regarded the comandante very calmly. "And what is your analysis of the traitor's reference to Mina?"**

**The officer sipped his wine again. "It must be some kind of code word," he replied thoughtfully, without a trace of his original anger. "I was thinking back to what he did in Spain before he came to the colonies."**

**"And what were his crimes there? Blasphemy? Exile? " the Irishman asked flatly.**

**"It was treason, pure and simple," Monastario said, putting the mug down. "Imagine, Mina demanding that our king accept a constitutional form of government!" he continued with vehemence. "The next step would be exactly what the French attempted - to destroy the monarchy, to destroy the nobility, to destroy the Church, and to destroy civilization. Look what happened to all of Europe because of those republicans! Millions died in nearly twenty-five years of continuous wars. All of our lives were disrupted and changed for the worse!"**

**Monastario was angry, but his anger was controlled. He paused and looked into the Irishman's green eyes. "I hate them, Paddy. I hate them all because of what they did to Spain and because of what they did to me and to my family. That is why I have no pity for them. It is why I will fight them by any and all means necessary."**

**"We are talking about Spaniards here, Enrique, men who define loyalty to Spain differently than you and I do," Paddy pointed out. "Yet it is a concept that unites us all."**

**He searched for the right words. "Loyalty to Spain for many men is almost spiritual. For others it is cultural and historic, or it is emotional and is based on a feeling of community. Some men might feel a stronger loyalty, say, to Navarre, or to Aragon, some to Andalusia or to the Canary Islands. Sometimes that can assume a higher form other than just to the system of monarchy alone. It is a concept of Spain in its entirety, a concept of all the people."**

**O'Leary paused as he put down his own mug, then he continued. "Does this mean that the De la Vegas and the Torres are all in the category as Mina? How about the Alcalde, the Calderons, the Villas, and others?"**

**Monastario gave him a hard look. "Those old bastards. Both of them deserve the gibbet. The rest are followers, not leaders. Their offspring might be redeemable, though. I told you that I would try many methods to, how should I put it, bring them back into the fold. But my patience is limited. Spain is the monarchy and the monarchy is Spain. Everything that is historic and cultural is the monarchy. You come from the old nobility of Ireland, Paddy. Surely you should understand that the nobility is the backbone of civilization. When you free your land from the English, you will assume your rightful place in your land as a lord. Don't destroy yourself by sympathizing with these republicans. Even your life could be in danger."**

**"Is that a threat, Enrique?"**

**"Consider it a warning from an old friend, Paddy. There are those far less tolerant than I. General Morillo would have leveled Los Angeles." Enrique Monastario poured each of them a little more wine. "What are your other concerns?"**

**"Since Zorro is possibly a veteran, who are the veterans in the area and ones young enough to pull off such exploits?"**

**"My major suspect is old man Torres. He was in the wars long before Bonaparte and is a well-known republican."**

**"You can't be serious," Paddy admonished him. "Do you really believe that the man who fought with you this afternoon is Torres? Such a man would have to be little older than you or I and perhaps even younger. Torres is much too old for such feats."**

**"I will gather more information on who has served in the military," Monastario replied. "Then I will see who is right on this issue." He waved a barmaid over. "I'm ordering dinner, Paddy. What would you like?"**

**"More wine," answered the Irishman.** ****

*******************************************************************

**"No, I'm not angry at you, Pedrito," Roberto Cárdenas told his son. "I'm sorry I was angry this afternoon. My anger had nothing to do with you." He held the boy close and caressed his hair.**

**"But why are you leaving, Papa?" his son asked again. "Is someone trying to kill you again? Why can't you tell me?"**

**"Sometimes it is dangerous to tell anyone anything, son. If Capitán Monastario were to question you or your mother, it might be very dangerous for you to know anything. If you know nothing, then you can honestly say that you know nothing. Often, mean men can frighten people in to telling them secrets, even if we don't want to tell them anything at all. Fear is a powerful weapon that the powerful can use against us. Do you understand, Pedrito?"**

**The boy nodded. "I think so, Papa. But I wouldn't tell anybody."**

**"I know," the father said. "I'm glad that we could have this talk. Sometimes the people that seem to be our friends turn out to be our enemies. Sometimes we never know who is telling the truth and who is lying, until it is too late. I am leaving because I must. I will be in contact with your mother. When it is safe for all of you to join me, we will be together again."**

**"Will it be a long time?" Pedrito asked. "And who are our friends who could be our enemies?"**

**"I don't know for sure," Roberto answered carefully. "Sometimes you just have to go on a feeling." He knew he was misleading the boy, but that is the way it had to be. He knew exactly who Patrick O' Leary was and he knew that he had to avoid him to prevent him from avenging an injustice that was in itself an injustice. And Roberto Cárdenas was an enigma wrapped in an enigma and there were those, like spiders, who were unraveling his web of deception and who were getting dangerously near to him once again - both Loyalists and Republicans.** ****

*******************************************************************

**Enrique Monastario pushed his plate back and took a sip of his wine. He regarded the brooding Irishman thoughtfully.**

**"Tell me this, Paddy. What exactly are your intentions regarding Señorita Torres?"**

**"And what's it to you?" Paddy retorted sharply.** ****

**"That should be obvious. I suggest that you take your interests elsewhere." The comandante's intent was unmistakable despite his calm demeanor.** ****

**The colonel perked up at the challenge and gave a sly smile. "All's fair in love and war, Enrique."** ****

**"This goes far beyond that!" Monastario responded with a hostile coolness.**

**"Who I chose as me friends are my affair, Enrique. If I chose to have Señorita Torres as a friend, that is likewise my business. I suggest that you try not to dictate to me my social relations. If you are so worried about our relationship, then perhaps you need to improve your own. Don't let your tongue cut your throat."**

**"That advice applies both ways. I once told you, Colonel, that the affairs of state here in Los Angeles are multi-structured. There is a dire need to create stability where chaos lurks and I intend to prevent California from following the example of México or Venezuela. You know my intentions in this regard. I will allow nothing to stand in my way of attaining these goals."**

**"Very well, Enrique. Let the best man win," Paddy said with a yawn. "Shall I fill your glass?"**

**When the other man regarded him with a stony silence, he shrugged. "Well, then, I'll just offer a toast: Better the coldness of a friend than the sweetness of an enemy." He tipped his mug towards the officer opposite him and drank. When he put down the empty mug, he poured himself out more wine.**

**"Tell me, this, Enrique," Paddy continued, putting his own mug down, "since we're on the subject of social relationships and ladies: just what are your intentions regarding Señorita Flores?" He regarded the officer with a cool look of his own.**

**The bright blue eyes did not avoid his and there was a slight smile on the face of the man with the moustache and goatee, a kind of grudging admiration for the other's ability to parry and repose whenever he could. "My congratulations, Paddy," he responded. "Despite your reluctance to part with any significant information that you have obtained while here in Los Angeles, you retain my respect for your intelligence-gathering capabilities. It is why I engaged you to begin with."**

**"And what have you gleaned, Capitán, from that political innocent?"**

**"Many interesting things, Paddy," Monastario replied in an easy manner. "Let's say that a republican conspiracy lurks below the surface and that many republicans are gathered here in Los Angles. Some of them have very checkered pasts and some are in hiding. You yourself seem very interested in a certain storekeeper or a member of his family and their past."**

**Paddy gave a short laugh. "And I thought you were going to accuse me of conspiring with Don Nacho. Enrique, for once you are off the mark. Next to the tavern, the general store has been the recipient of my business. I'm a good customer and the family is rather fond of me for that reason alone. I take it that you've investigated Señor Pacheco as well? He might be smuggling me some stout from Ireland."**

**The comandante of Los Angeles looked doubtful at his words but picked up the wine bottle and poured more into both mugs. He knew Paddy was lying about the storekeeper, but he did not know why. But he did know why he might lie about the storekeeper's wife.**

**"I won't mince words, Paddy," Monastario came to the point. "I know exactly who Isabel Cárdenas is. She is the wife of a traitor whom I hanged in Peru. General Morillo told me later that, of the two, she should have been the one hanged. I have kept watch on her ever since I arrived last year." He paused and took a sip of wine. "She's a few years older and put on some weight, but you can't hide beauty like that."**

**Paddy marveled at the comandante's political scope of the community. He honestly liked Isabel Cárdenas and admired her even more now knowing the breadth of her past activism. He decided to risk a little information in order to save her life.**

**"You know, Enrique," he began casually, "I've gotten to know the family quite well. Isabel actually confided to me what happened to her husband in Peru. But I think you did your work well there. She has not been active since she arrived here with her new husband. She has a child to worry about now and nothing makes a woman more cautious than having a child to worry about. I don't think you'll find a republican conspiracy lurking in the general store. No matter what her past might have been, she wants a quiet life without troubles here in Los Angeles."** ****

**"For once, you've given me some useful information," the captain remarked. "I have had serious doubts about your intentions, Paddy. You were much better in Spain at finding out who our enemies were."**

**"Life isn't as clear cut as it once was," the Irishman mused. "We didn't even run after the same kind of girls."**

**"You couldn't be more wrong," Monastario responded sharply. "If anything, the lines drawn today are even sharper, more distinct. Republicanism never changes. It may have a French face at first, then it changes to an English face. Here, it has a Spanish face, but it is still the face of subversion and it must be fought with resolution, without hesitation!"**

**The Spanish officer paused, looked up and watched Diego de la Vega go up to the bar and order another bottle of wine for the soldiers at the table. He returned his attention to the red-haired man next to him. "As for girls, I suggest you meet the other charming ladies of this pueblo. I do not intend to lose the campaign I am waging. I do not lose campaigns."**

**Paddy smiled easily. "It's always a good idea to have an alternative, Enrique, because nothing in life is certain, not even the relentless waging of war. Surely, a sword and a pistol are not the only weapons in your arsenal."** ****

**"True," the man with the goatee and moustache acknowledged," but, my eyes will always be on this prize." He startled the Irishman by raising his mug of wine to him and adding, "Oh, by the way, Colonel, when you finally deal with your enemy, I agree not to interfere in your administration of 'justice'. You just do the same with me."**  
  
---  
  
**[Chapter Twenty-nine](http://bookscape.net/authors/colonel29.htm)**  
---  
**[Chapter One](http://bookscape.net/authors/colonel1.htm)**  
**[Zorro Contents](http://bookscape.net/zorrocontents.htm)**  
**[Main Page](http://bookscape.net/index.htm)**


	28. The Irish Colonel

The Irish Colonel

_**The Irish Colonel**_

_**by**_

_**Eugene Craig**_  
  
---  
  
****

**DAY SIX**

**Chapter 29**

**Long after Enrique Monastario had left the tavern, a man dressed in a green ranchero's outfit with a red sash sat at a table and drank another bottle of wine. At the comandante's instructions, the barmaid brought the man over a meal, but Paddy only picked at the food now and again. He was vaguely aware that the tavern had filled up and there was noise all around him. So it came as some surprise when he finally noticed someone standing across the table addressing him.**

**"Hello, Paddy," the voice kept repeating. "Colonel O' Leary?"**

**The Irishman recognized the young ranchero, Diego de la Vega, through a drunken haze. "Ah, young don," he said in an unusually loud voice. "Why are you speaking so softly? I can hardly hear you."**

**"Well, Colonel, I've always heard that a loud voice tends to grate on the ear of the inebriated," Diego remarked. "I take it you won't mind if I have a seat."**

**"Go ahead," Paddy smiled. He leaned across the table. "You buy the next bottle."**

**"I would like to," Diego said quietly. "But tonight I need to ask you a favor."**

**"Anything," the colonel replied and tried to focus his thoughts on the young don's words.**

**The barmaid brought a mug and O' Leary downed the contents without looking at it. When he put the mug down, he muttered. "She brought me a mug of tea and I barely noticed what I drank."** ****

**Diego gave a short laugh. "My fault, Colonel. I asked her to."** ****

**"I take it you want a serious word with me," the Irishman reflected. "But my judgement is good, drunk or sober."** ****

**"Paddy, you are a friend. I am worried about you. You are really drinking too much tonight," Diego said as gently as he could.**

**"Thirst is a shameless disease, so here's to a shameful cure," Paddy remarked, raising an empty mug. He noticed the mug was empty and looked baffled a moment.**

**"Let's go, Colonel. Tonight is a time to discover who we really are," Diego said, standing.**

**"All right," responded Paddy, lurching to his feet. "I enjoy a challenge now and then." He was on Erin and was turning a corner when he mused, "I've been down this street tonight."**

**Diego could only smile. A cool breeze was up and a ride would help sober up the colonel a bit. Diego sensed instinctively that a crisis was coming, perhaps this very night. Monastario was too calculating, the Irishman too disturbed for him not to believe that something was in the making. And he wanted to find out what it was.**

**After a good hour of riding down the road, Diego felt that the Irishman was reasonably alert and he turned his palomino into a dry seco. Actually, they were on the lands of the De la Vega hacienda and Diego wanted to be able to deal with the colonel should there be trouble.**

**Paddy and Diego dismounted. Diego pulled a flint out of his saddlebag and within minutes had lit a small fire of grasses and stray branches and twigs. There was an old log nearby and they sat themselves down in front of it.**

**"Ahh," said Paddy stretching his legs and arms out in front of him. "Now, what can old Paddy do for you?"  
  
Diego relaxed beside the Irishman. "You know, Paddy, the stars are so beautiful tonight, I just wanted someone to observe them with me. You can see thousands of them from here. The night air is clear and cool and it can give one a different perspective on life by just contemplating the universe." He let out a sign of contentment.**

**The colonel was expecting something quite different, but he took the change of mood in stride. He looked up at the stars. "Look at that," he exclaimed, "a shooting star. Some will say that it portends great luck or maybe even great misfortune."**

**"I would like to think it would be good luck," responded Diego. "I would hate to think that anyone would be stricken with misfortune, especially someone I know." He glanced over at the Irishman to gauge his reaction.**

**The Irishman was quiet for a spell and continued to look up at the stars. Over the course of another hour, they watched a cascade of shooting stars, a common phenomenon for that time of year, but it left the colonel uneasy.**

**"Now, I wonder what all these shooting stars mean?" Diego pressed the subject. "Do you think it's a calamity approaching, or maybe a great injustice is about to occur?"**

**Paddy O' Leary stood up and began to pace in front of the log. Finally, he stopped and looked down at his friend. "Something _is_ going to happen, Diego," he said.**

**"It is?" Diego responded. "How do you know? Who is going to do it? Not Monastario again?"**

**Paddy sat on the log and put his head between his hands. "I should like you to know this," he began. "I'm going to kill a man. I must kill him. It is a question of honor."**

**"Paddy, who are you going to kill? Not Monastario?" Diego asked urgently.**

**"No, Diego, not Monastario. This has nothing to do with him," the colonel replied and he seemed very tired. "It is an affair of honor that goes back to the old war. It is about treason, deception, and death, the death of thousands caused by one man's betrayal."**

**"It must have been a terrible thing," Diego observed, "to have kept itself buried inside your heart for so long."**

**"It was a terrible thing and its consequences have never been rectified, Diego."**

**"Rectified for the man or in your own heart?" the young don asked quietly.**

**"And what do you mean by that?" asked Paddy testily.**

**"Paddy, you just said that the incident happened in the old war. That was a long time ago. Many people have been born and others have died since that time. It may just be the time to let go of the past and let bad memories die as well."**

**"If you had been there," the colonel responded angrily, "you might very well sing a different tune."**

**"That's true, I might," replied Diego. "But Paddy, does this man have a wife or a child now? Would his death lead to more injustice than the original injustice? Do you think that he might be as troubled by this old incident as you still are? Could not the re-opening of this old wound make things even worse than they were?"**

**The Irishman was stricken. There was an agonized _expression on his face that spoke of his dilemma. It pained Diego to see the battle going on within the red-haired man that he had become fond of and respected for his principled approach to life.**

**Paddy reacted the only way he could under the crush of events and drink. He lashed out. "Christ Jesus!" he shouted. "And don't you think that I don't know it! But that remains only one side of the equation, just as Monastario said. Enrique was right: you cannot see the other equation. You just don't see it!" He felt as if he was going to weep and he took a big breath of air.**

**Diego knew what the other side was. It was a side that would take as much courage to face and to resolve as it did to pursue for so many years.**

**The colonel headed over to his horse and held the reins. His expression was now sad, not angry, not accusing.**

**Diego rose to his feet and approached him. "Wouldn't it be best to sleep on this and make a decision later, Paddy? You've had quite a bit to drink tonight and wine never helps a man make a good decision."**

**"'Drunkenness and anger, 'tis said, tell the truth'," he replied, turning back towards Diego.**

**"Colonel, I've read quite a bit of the book you lent me. In it is an old Irish proverb that I think applies: 'Let your anger set with the sun and not rise with it again.' Paddy, why can't you let your anger over this old incident set and not rise again either - for your own sake, as well as his."**

**"A lot of nerve you have, quoting me self to me self!" the colonel roared. He took a step towards Diego and swung a fist.**

**Diego dodged but felt the fist clip his cheek. He made a show of going down to see if it would give Paddy a pause for thought, but the Irishman swung himself up into the saddle and rode off.**

**Several minutes later, Bernardo emerged on horseback from behind some trees. He gestured as if asking why Diego was still sitting on the ground.**

**Diego looked up at the mozo. "So much for diplomacy, Bernardo. Colonel O' Leary is a man in battle with himself and I think his good side may be losing this fight. Let's see where he's going."**

**Bernardo gestured towards the south, not towards the pueblo of Los Angeles.**

**Diego nodded. "So, the battle is still waging. He's riding away from Los Angeles - for now. You know, Bernardo, I think it is time for Zorro to help prevent a tragedy." He stomped out the fire, then mounted the palomino.**

**With that, both men disappeared into the darkness. Far above them, the cascade of meteorites streaked and glowed in the night sky.** ****

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**The hour was growing late and the tavern was emptying of clients. Señor Pacheco and the barmaids had already wiped down the drink-strewn tables and took away the last of the empty bottles on pewter trays, along with empty and partially filled mugs.**

**Over in a corner sat Rosita Flores. The hour was growing late and she was used to Paddy being there and having a long drink of wine with her before turning in.**

**"I am sorry, Señorita Flores, but Colonel O' Leary left some time ago with Don Diego," the innkeeper responded to her numerous inquiries. "No, he did not leave any messages and he did not say where they were going."**

**Rosita had changed her red dress for a green one. Her mood had changed, too, and she needed to talk with Paddy - urgently. She thought about how Capitán Monastario had summoned her - very politely, of course - to the cuartel. He had questioned her regarding Paddy's social contacts, where he went, whom he met with, and so on.**

**"I really don't know the answers to many of your questions," she had told him, arranging her red skirts to reveal her ankles as she sat cross-legged on the wooden chair in his office. She smiled coquettishly, "Paddy doesn't tell me all his business and I don't ask."**

**"Surely he must speak to you of his opinions or his impressions of the people he meets here in Los Angeles," Enrique Monastario insisted. "Some of these people may intend to use him for their own purposes. I ask you these questions because Paddy's life might be in danger."**

**Rosita reacted in surprise to these words. "Oh, Comandante, I don't see how that is possible!"**

**"What do you mean?" he asked.**

**"Well," she began. "Everyone loves Paddy. Everyone is his friend. No one would want to hurt Paddy." She fluttered her eyes. "Believe me. I know." She smiled seductively.**

**"Don't tell me that you can't think of a single person who doesn't like Colonel O' Leary?" he responded emphatically. "Think hard. Now who is it?"**

**Rosita hemmed and hawed, ran her hand through her hair several times, smoothed her dress, twirled the ring on her finger numerous times and moved her head back and forth. She pretended not to notice the captain's impatience.**

**"Oh, now I know," she said after a long while. Her expression indicated a secret that she held within her. She looked at him with wide eyes.**

**The officer smiled. "Now we're getting somewhere."**

**She lowered her voice to a whisper and he leaned forward eagerly to catch her words.**

**"There is one man who doesn't like Paddy at all," she said, barely audibly.**

**Enrique Monastario straightened up in his chair. "Really, Señorita Flores, you don't have to whisper here in my office. We are quite secure, I assure you."**

**"Oh," she said. "But you never can tell who might be listening." She looked over to the window and door.**

**The man with the moustache and goatee nodded, approving of her appreciation of the need for vigilance and discretion. He rose from his desk and looked out the window. Then he went to the door and opened it. "You see, no one is near at hand to overhear your secrets," he told her. He closed the door.**

**She sighed and nodded happily.**

**He walked over to her with a smile on his face. His blue eyes were bright and he put his hand on the arm of her chair while his eyes casually, but politely and appreciatively, noted her slim ankles. "And what is his name?"**

**"All right. But don't tell anybody that I told you," she insisted.**

**"I won't," he promised.**

**Her voice became indignant. "It's that Don Carlos! He hates Paddy. He's so incredibly rude. Why, he wouldn't help Paddy if he needed the hair of a dog to save his life! And is he mean. And what eyes he doesn't make at me! Why, you wouldn't believe the things he has been saying behind my back about Paddy and me…"**

**Enrique Monastario closed his eyes and moaned audibly. He put his hand to his forehead and shook his head. It was going to be a long evening.**

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**Paddy rode Erin into the darkness quite a long time after he left the campfire. He stuck to the main road. Even from there he could hear the howls of the coyotes, the hoots of the owls and the movement of animals. They seemed to be calling to him, mocking him, or reproving him in turn.**

**He turned back towards Los Angeles. From the road, the small pueblo was hidden in darkness and he would return to its heart. He traveled the road to the point where Diego had turned off and they had sat along a dry arroyo and looked up at the stars. He knew Diego was long gone and he mourned having struck the man in anger over their disagreements _. No, it wasn't about anger_ , he told himself, as he dismounted. _I struck him because he was telling me some truths that I don't want to hear._**

**Paddy went back over to the dead fire and found some still glowing embers. He gathered some twigs, grasses and branches and rekindled the fire and sat down as he had done before. He watched as the meteorites continued to fall and he listened to the sounds of the crickets chirping and saw bats swooping in and around the campfire that attracted the moths.**

**He had faced the enemy in battle a thousand times, he thought. And there was no greater enemy in all the world than himself. _I wonder if this is our purpose here on Earth_ , he asked himself. _Are these kind of moral dilemmas the true battles that are fought? Is this the real reason that God put us on this Earth - to make a final reckoning of what is right and what is wrong?_ How easy King Solomon's task seemed in comparison to his!**

_**Christ Jesus, I've tried to pray and it won't work. It won't work because I'm a sinner and a fool and worse**_ **. He began to think of his friends and comrades who died one night on a battlefield, on a battlefield as dark as this night. And was it just a coincidence that there was a shower of stars in the sky, a coincidence of a man who wouldn't take a drink, and a man whom many would have given their lives to take to task for treason - in Spain, in Peru, and in Venezuela. _But I have sworn an obligation to the dead and I must keep my promise, made though it was more than seven years ago_.**

**There was the hint of a disturbance nearby and Paddy thought it an omen. He leaped to his feet. "By all the saints," he shouted to the listening trees and stones, "advise me, tell me what's do be done!" But there was only the silence of the wind that seemed to whip up his words and carry them beyond the fire's light.**

**"I cannot betray those who died then or become weak now because of sentimentality," he shouted to the silent hills. "What is right and what is wrong?" His arms swept up to the heavens.**

**Suddenly, a voice answered him from out of the darkness. "You must let your conscious be your guide, no other."**

**Paddy O' Leary spun around toward the sound, his eyes seeking out a figure, or an apparition. "Come forward and be known to me!" he replied in defiance. "I will not listen to the voices of the devil or of heaven in the darkness!" He put his hands on his hips.**

**Erin nickered and nodded his head up and down as if in recognition.**

**There was the sound of an approaching horse. Out of the night a rider became more visible as he approached the small light of the campfire. It was a man on a black horse and he was dressed in black from head to foot. Behind him fluttered a black cape. El Zorro halted several feet away.**

**"Zorro!" exclaimed Paddy. "Ha, the last man I need to see at a time like this. Haven't I seen enough of you for one day already?"**

**"Perhaps not, Colonel," replied the man in black. "However, I subscribe to an old Irish proverb which says 'The fox never found a better messenger than himself.'"** ****

**Paddy had to pause and grin a moment at that. "Well, then, what's your message?"**

**"A serious one. Colonel, I've watched you a while and it seems to me that you are bent on doing an injustice to an innocent boy and woman. I will not allow that."**

**"Oh, you won’t?" retorted the Irishman, " well, then, just try and stop me." With that he drew his sword.**

**"Very well, " chuckled El Zorro. "If you insist, but I warn you that in your present drunken state, you do not stand a chance."** ****

**"Don’t let the vintage come between you and me," shouted O’Leary. "I’m not a coward, drunk or sober. Get off your horse and fight."**

**Paddy waited as Zorro dismounted and drew his sword. The two men began to circle each other warily. Zorro smiled confidently. O’Leary swirled his blade, watching the other closely and appraising the light steps of his opponent. In every movement he found Zorro a mirror image of himself - and more.**

**Paddy feigned an attack and stepped quickly to meet the repose of the other, countering thrusts and slashes again and again. Their blades clashed in intimate engagement, then both withdrew and continued circling until Zorro launched an attack meant to disarm his opponent quickly. But Paddy showed that he was quick and experienced as well, turning the blade and making a lunge. Zorro stepped lightly out of the way and counterattacked. The blades flashed back and forth with advances and retreats, slashes and lunges, parries and outright misses. This went on for a spell until O’Leary tripped on a rock, lost his balance, and was sent sprawling.**

**He felt stunned by the sudden turn of events and looked up at the man in black. "Well,** **come and do your worst to me."**

**"I never take unfair advantage of an opponent’s misfortune," replied Zorro. "Let me give you a hand up."**

**O’Leary accepted his hand and was powerfully pulled to his feet. But rather than draw up his sword again he said, "I can see that you are an honorable man, Señor Zorro, and a fine swordsman. But I’ll have you know that had I not had so much to drink, our positions would be reversed."**

**"Perhaps, Señor," replied the masked man, "but I wonder if you would also give me the same courtesy."**

**Instead of getting angry, Paddy considered his position, and condition, and opted to give a lecture instead. "I’ll have you know that it’s an Irishman you’re talking to and there are no people in the world with more honor than the people of the Gael," he admonished the man who stood opposite him.**

**"I’m gratified to have my suspicions confirmed, Señor," replied El Zorro, not taking offense. "And as an honorable man, you will no doubt realize that your dilemma is one of honor as well."**

**"Those are true words. What have you heard?"**

**"That you swore that you would avenge the deaths of many men whom you thought were betrayed by a man in your regiment. That you have hunted this man from Spain to the New World; that you befriended a kind woman and her son and in all honesty have helped them both financially and spiritually. And now you find that this woman is married to your enemy and that the boy is his son. Would you carry your retribution into the ranks of the innocents as well?"**

**"You have no idea how these questions have tormented me," Paddy replied with great emotion. He tossed his sword aside and sat down on the log. "The men who died in my arms asked me to avenge them and I swore that I would. And they were the ones on the battlefield. My friends of the regiment, wounded ones who died in my arms \- my best friend Hernan, and Carlos, Jimmy O’Reilly, and the Moor, also asked me to swear vengeance. I did so. How could I fulfill my oaths to them, they who are in Heaven and looking down on me now?"** ****

**"Ultimately, I cannot stop you from visiting vengeance upon this man," said Zorro, "but consider this fact: he, too, must have a story to tell. And you may find it worth listening to. Don't you Irish have a saying that ' There are two tellings to every story'?"** ****

**"His tale would be one of treason against his own comrades. I saw his treason myself," O’Leary explained. "If he was truly not guilty, then why would he continue to flee? His very flight confirms his guilt."**

**"I wonder if that is true or not," countered the man in black. "For if he suspected that you would not even give him a modicum of a chance to explain himself, then perhaps he has been wise to avoid you."**

**"Be that as it may," began Paddy.**

**"Be that as it may," finished Zorro, " but you have appointed yourself as his sole judge, jury and executioner without hearing the defendant’s side of the story. Every man has the right to a fair trial and he is not being given one. You criticized Monastario for doing the same, yet would you conduct yourself no differently? I expected much more of you."**

**Paddy felt diminished, but he was still defiant. "I know what you are saying: ‘This is what the bloody English do to your people every day’ and, hell’s damnation, it’s true. It’s bloody true. But in this instance, the man marched into our midst playing the Judas Goat. Every eye was on him. We all thought, oh, how safe we were and that we’d surprise the French up over the next rise, only to find we had been lambs led to the slaughter. Can you not understand, man, what this meant to us? What it still means to me after all these years? Even Monastario understands this one."**

**"I’m truly sorry," replied the masked man. "But my position remains the same. Hear him out, then decide if the pain you’ve suffered warrants imposing the same on Pedro and his mother."**

**It was late that night when Paddy arrived at the inn. He had promised el Zorro that he would think on what he had said. _How strange_ , he mused. _I believed, until now, the old proverb that 'Time and Patience would bring the snail to Jerusalem,' and my enemy to justice. Now it seemed that this no longer mattered_. El Zorro's message was clear and it seemed to point to another proverb which was close to his heart - 'A man may be his own ruin'."** ****  
  
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**[Chapter Thirty](http://bookscape.net/authors/colonel30.htm)**  
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**[Chapter One](http://bookscape.net/authors/colonel1.htm)**  
**[Zorro Contents](http://bookscape.net/zorrocontents.htm)**  
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	29. The Irish Colonel

The Irish Colonel

_**The Irish Colonel**_

_**by**_

_**Eugene Craig**_  
  
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**DAY SEVEN**

**Chapter 30**

**The livery stable in town bustled with activity earlier this Tuesday morning, for the coach and horses were being readied for the trip to San Pedro, the port of entry in southern California. There, passengers would board a scheduled ship and head south towards the warmer Pacific harbors of México. On occasion, passengers would board other ships that paused at San Pedro before the final leg of their journey north to Monterey, the capital, or to San Francisco.**

**The blacksmith and his assistant would check the iron shoes of the team of horses chosen, inspect the long leather reins, the wooden shaft, the axles, the wheels, and finally, the interior of the coach. Then, they would be hitched up and brought just outside the stables to wait for the boarders. The blacksmith's assistant would load up the luggage and strap it down on top of the coach as well as securing boxes and chests to the back.** ****

**In the general store, Isabel Cárdenas was folding the last of her husband's shirts into an ironbound chest that had seen much use in its day. Roberto was, as usual, preparing items in the store as if he had no plans whatsoever to leave and journey far from Los Angeles.** ****

**And at the inn, a red-haired Irishman took his breakfast as normal. He had slept without dreams or perhaps he didn't remember that he dreamt at all. The night had been both long and short. When he got back to the inn, Sergeant García had entertained him, with stories of what had happened at the cuartel that afternoon with El Zorro's raid. For once, the Sergeant had the entire bottle to drink for himself and even Paddy's own melancholy had disappeared for a while in the telling of tragedy and farce. Finally, Rosita had sat up with him and gave him a long report on her encounter with Enrique Monastario. Paddy laughed in spite of himself and then fell off into a deep sleep.**

**At the distant hacienda of Don Nacho Torres, Elena Torres lay in bed and dreamed of a green-eyed Irishman who brought her flowers and who would fight in battle with her father against a blue-eyed captain on a white stallion.** ****

**Diego de la Vega opened the door to his room and looked out over the patio of green trees and colorful flowers at the distant hills of yellow grasses and green oaks trees. He turned to his faithful servant. "Today is the day of reckoning, Bernardo. I only hope that Paddy O' Leary will act in the manner that my faith in him will confirm."**

**Bernardo nodded. He indicated someone on the patio below. It was Diego's father, Alejandro.**

**The white-bearded don looked up to the balcony and saw his son standing among the hanging plants. He waved a book at him.**

**Diego headed down the stairs. "Good morning, Father. What are you reading?"**

**Alejandro took him by the arm. "Diego, I've been reading the book that Colonel O' Leary loaned you about the history of Ireland. The more I read, the more I become struck by something that the colonel said to me about Capitán Monastario."**

**Diego was interested. "And what was that, Father?"**

**"When I first met Colonel O' Leary, he described the comandante as a man 'with the burden of the Ages on his shoulders.' Yet as I read this tragic and inspiring history, it seems to me that it is really the colonel who embodies that description."**

**Diego nodded. "I know what you mean. That also reminds me of something that Paddy said about the comandante, something that applies to him as well. He remarked that 'the belief in the possibility for salvation and redemption has given many men hope. But take that hope away, and what do you have left?' "**

**"You know, my son, Don Patricio is a complex man, but a man after our own heart. He has tried to be fair to everyone, including the comandante. His actions seem to reveal a man whose heart is torn between the past and the present and how to come to terms with both." He began looking at his son's face with concern. "Where did you get that bruise from?"**

**Diego touched his cheek. "Paddy gave it to me. We had a disagreement last night and he took a swing at me. I was trying to get him to deal with his past - and he had had too much to drink. I should have known better."**

**"Well, my son, each man must make the decision on what to do with his own life. As friends, we can only advise, we cannot decide for him. Somehow, in spite of my past misgivings of his intentions, I feel that the colonel will make the right decisions and for the right reasons. He is a man of honor." With that comment, father and son strode inside for a quiet breakfast.** ****

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**Paddy was dressed in brown and wore a red sash. His hat was black and he wore a pistol in his belt.**

**He walked casually out of the inn and towards the general store. It was much too early for the store to be open, but the front door was not the only entrance. He took a side street that led to the back of the store and saw that the door was partly opened. He walked up to it and listened carefully before opening it and stepping inside.**

**The red-haired man was only a step or two inside when he heard the voices of two people. One was Isabel Cárdenas, the other was a voice from a memory, a distant and dark memory. But it was _his_ voice. The man's measured dialogue and intonation was unmistakable. Paddy pressed himself against the wall as he listened to the conversation of a man telling his wife that the trunk was packed, and that all he needed was to fetch his bag. There was only an hour left before the coach would leave.**

**Paddy's moment of truth had come. He turned and left the way he had come, leaving the door as he had found it. He took long strides down the short street, then slowed his pace to a casual walk as he made his way back to the inn. He knew what he had to do.**

**The colonel went up stairs to his room and tossed his hat on the bed. He opened his shirt and removed a key on a leather string from around his neck. Taking the key in his right hand, he knelt down in front of his trunk and opened the lock. He took out his uniform, his regimental hat and boots, and laid them out on the floor. Then he reached deep into the bottom of the trunk.**

**Wrapped in a piece of leather, bound by a strap of leather string, was the object of his intent. He laid it on the dresser. He turned and began to change his clothes. Colonel Patrick James O' Leary of His Majesty's Irish Regiment would make his appearance for an execution in full dress uniform, with its epauletts, medals, sash and polished boots. He fastened on his sword. He contemplated taking the pistol. It was a pistol that Monastario had given him. For some reason, it seemed wrong to take that pistol because of its symbolism, so he put it in a drawer of the dresser.**

**The Irishman picked up the scrap of leather and untied the cord that bound it. Within the folds was revealed an old knife with ancient bloodstains on it, bloodstains from an old war. The knife was unique for on its elaborate hilt bore an inscription in Irish gaelic -‘ _Is treise tuath no tighearna_ ’ – "A people is stronger than a lord." How his enemy had twisted that truth when he chose to betray the cause of Spain and to serve a foreign lord. Paddy put it in his sash. He put on his hat. He left the room.** ****

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**Sergeant Demetrio García López was standing at the open gates of the cuartel when he looked across the plaza at a man taking very purposeful strides. "Look, Corporal. Isn't that Colonel O' Leary over there?"**

**The sleepy-eyed corporal followed the line of his pointed finger. "It looks like him, Sergeant."**

**The big man watched as the colonel reached the general store and went in through the front door. "I thought Colonel O' Leary had retired. Maybe he decided to re-enlist."**

**When the officer had disappeared from sight, the sergeant turned back towards the corporal. "You know, Reyes, Colonel O' Leary should never have retired. We still need men like him in the army."**

**"Well, Sergeant, maybe he never really did."**

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**The store was empty and the minutes were flowing away like the grains of sand in an hourglass. The bins of fruits and grains, cloth and timber, plates and delicate wine glasses, sweets and salt passed him by in a blur, yet he saw everything distinctly.**

**Paddy O' Leary reached the back of the store. He went through the cloth curtain that separated the private and public areas. There was an open doorway on his right. He put his hand on the hilt of his sword.**

**Roberto Cárdenas was kneeling and shutting the travel bag when he heard steps stop abruptly behind him. He looked up and froze and the sound of a stern voice.**

**" _Seamus Ciarán O'Flaherty_!"**

**Cárdenas looked up and the blood drained from his face. He saw a man in the uniform of the Irish regiment with a drawn sword. " _Is mise, Padraig O’Laeghaire_ ," he replied in Irish Gaelic. "It is I, Patrick O' Leary. Somehow I knew you would come, Rory. Somehow I knew this moment would arrive." He rose slowly to his feet.**

**"Are you ready to flee again from a comrade and brother you betrayed?" Paddy admonished him gesturing to the bag. "Will ye not stand up and take your punishment like a member of the Gael would?"**

**"Punishment?" replied the brown-haired man. "Punishment, Rory! As if I’ve not been punished all these years with men who would not listen to the truth, men who closed their ears to anything but their own passions, their own version of the truth."**

**"And what is the truth, Ciarán? What is the truth for those in Heaven and those in Hell? How can you live with yourself after all these years?"**

**"How can I live with myself you ask? And how have you lived, Rory?" asked Roberto. "Is revenge so important to you that it has become the kind of nightmare that I've lived?" The man sat back down on a wooden crate. He stared at the floor as he spoke. "You have no idea how miserable I've been." He looked up at the colonel.**

**"Well, I'm here to end your misery and to avenge those who are no longer able to avenge themselves because of how you betrayed them," Paddy told him coldly.**

**There was a movement behind him and Paddy glanced over his shoulder. In the short hall stood Isabel Cárdenas and her son, Pedro. Her face was full of fear and the boy looked shocked.**

**Paddy was startled at their sudden appearance. "Señora Cárdenas," he exclaimed and saw the boy's face. "Will you please leave us?"**

**"No, Padraig," interrupted Roberto, "it is only right that they know the truth, too."**

**Isabel Cárdenas pushed her way into the room. "What is going on, Roberto?" She turned to the Irishman. "Colonel O' Leary what is happening between you two?" She was anguished at the scene before her.**

**"I am sorry to inform you that I am here to avenge the deaths of thousands of men in our regiment who lost their lives as a result of your husband's treason during the war, Señora," Paddy told her.**

**"What right do you have to kill my husband?" she challenged him, although the tears streamed down her face. "What gives you the sole right to be his executioner?"**

**"Isabel," began Roberto.**

**"I have a greater right than anyone in the regiment, Señora, because Ciarán - Roberto's real name - is my own half-brother," Paddy replied. "I must show you some evidence." He pulled the dagger from his sash. "This is his knife, the one that smote me and almost killed me. The blood you see on it is my blood. My own kin attempted to assassinate me in battle, a man I loved and trusted. His treason not only shamed the regiment, but it did the same to my family. I am under a great obligation for the honor of both."**

**"What Rory says is true, Isabel, but only from the view of a man who only knows half the story," Roberto told her. He turned to O' Leary. "Every man has a right to make a last request before he dies and my last request is to tell the entire story."**

**"It is a reasonable request," Paddy acknowledged. "I am sure that we all want to hear it." He stepped far away from the door for the boy to enter the room.**

**Pedro ran to his father and hugged him, weeping. "It's all right, Pedrito," Roberto told him, holding him and stroking his hair. It was many long minutes before the boy composed himself. "Sit down here with me and I'll tell you what happened a long time ago." The man put his arm around his son's slender shoulders.**

**" I was a member of the Irish regiment of the Spanish army," the man began. "My name was Seamus Ciarán O' Flaherty. My father was Rory's father, but my mother was not married to him. I took her last name, not his, and this was the custom of my people. Still, we grew up as brothers and treated each other as brothers do - fishing and fighting, going to school and church together, and serving in the same regiment in Spain to fight Bonaparte, to fight the French invaders. Rory and I were the best of friends." Roberto paused and looked up at his half-brother who nodded.**

**"But what happened that tore us apart, we two who had been inseparable as youngsters, in the army, and later as guerillas?" His eyes looked beyond the walls of the store and he saw another past world unfolding before his eyes, a world full of the smell of gunpowder, of the sound of cannon balls whistling through the air, of men shouting as they rushed forward, often barely seeing each other's features in the smoke, fogs or rains that could obscure any battlefield. "It was the day of a great planned offensive. I was assigned to a scouting expedition with a few men. Rory was not there with me at the time."**

**O' Leary spoke. "We were preparing the troops for a surprise attack that would happen when the scouts got back."**

**The man with the brown hair nodded. "Our mission was to find out exactly where the French pickets were, to estimate the number of troops at their command, and to report with preciseness the layout of the land so we could launch a surprise attack and follow through."**

**"Just don't neglect to mention, for the sake of the record," Paddy interrupted, "that of all the men of the regiment, Ciarán, it was you who doubted the victory of our arms and predicted a disaster if we rode forth."**

**"It was Spain and the war for the North," Roberto explained to Isabel. "It was 1812 and the French were on the march throughout Europe. There were many battles and Bonaparte had reached Moscow. All of Europe seemed to lay prostrate at his feet. Many were weary of war. It is true that I often doubted the outcome of arms, but was I alone in my doubts, Rory? Do you really think that just because a man expresses doubts and frustrations that this fact alone means that he committed treason?"**

**"So you say," responded the colonel. "Continue with the story."**

**"Unknown to us, a French scouting patrol had the same mission against our troops. They saw us coming and laid out an ambush. We fought our way back as best we could, but most of the men were killed. Only a few of us survived and we were taken prisoner."**

**"What happened to you Papa?" asked Pedrito, speaking for the first time. "What did the French do to you?"**

**"The French interrogated us, but we told them nothing. Their commanding officer was determined to get the most out of us that they could. When he could not, he decided to use us instead. He came up with a plan. This plan forever changed the lives of everyone - both the French and the Spanish. And it changed the lives of Rory and me, too."**

**"What was it you sold out for, Ciarán, gold? Your life?" asked Paddy indignantly.**

**His half-brother ignored these questions, yet answered them. "It was decided to take our uniforms and disguise French soldiers as Spaniards in an attempt to lure our troops into a false sense of security," Roberto explained. "One of the sad aspects of our people's lot under English rule is how many of us have been driven out of our native land into the armies of foreign nations. There were Irishmen serving in the forces of Bonaparte, not just in the armies of Spain. We were often on the opposite sides from each other in battle - for different and for the same reasons. Rory can explain the history better than I can. The officer commanding the French troops was a Captain Liam Maguire. His family was originally from Ulster."**

**"Was the French captain Irish like you, Papa?" asked the boy.**

**His father smiled. "Yes, Pedrito. He was from a different part of Ireland."**

**"So the Spanish thought that it was their own troops who were coming toward them when it was really the French?" exclaimed Isabel.**

**Paddy was silent.**

**"That is true, but there is another detail to know. Many of us used to wear distinguishing feathers or decorations on our uniforms or caps, just a matter of personal pride or vanity. We were young in those days and did things like that," he responded.**

**"We still do," added Paddy. "But tell me this, how is it that I saw you with my own eyes and you carried this dagger aimed at my heart?"**

**Roberto looked Paddy in the eye. "Captain Maguire knew that if one of his men, resembling me in the dark, wore my uniform with my feathers, appeared along with that of other Spaniards, then our troops would suspect nothing." Then he smiled and said unexpectedly. "But I must leave the story here because we were bound and hauled away. He turned to his half-brother. "Rory, it is you that must now continue the story."**

**Paddy looked as if his mind were thousands of miles away and years in the past. In his mind's eye he saw the glimmer of distant campfires, like the stars in the sky. He saw the forms of men approaching him casually, and the chaos that followed.**

**"When the scouts returned, we thought that they had cleared the way for the attack, for there was nothing in their actions that indicated the grave danger we were in. I saw Ciarán," he indicated his head in Roberto's direction, "because of his feathers and walked out to meet him. I greeted him in Irish and he returned my greeting - though I admit, it was at a distance. I turned round to gesture to our men to move forward and I felt him race suddenly to my side. I turned in surprise and saw the upraised dagger, your dagger, Ciarán."**

**"You saw my dagger, Rory, because the Frenchman had it in his possession as well. How amusing they thought it was that an Irish dagger would possibly kill an Irishman serving the cause of Spain."**

**The young boy turned to O' Leary uncertainly. "Did the French soldier stab you?" he asked.**

**"Yes. He aimed for my heart, but caught me in the side when I turned back on him. We fought. There was a rush of men on all sides, the French attacking and the Spaniards fighting back and being overwhelmed."**

**"What happened to you, Rory?" asked Roberto. "How did you make your escape?"**

**O’ Leary did not like how the conversation was being personalized, but he wanted all the facts brought out, including his own. "I was wounded in the side and fell. Our men were rushing forward with bayonets and sabers drawn. You turned and charged forward towards our men. I rose to follow you and was hit in the head with a blow of a musket butt. I felt the feet of men trample me and I lost consciousness for a while. When I came to, there were dead and dying men all around me. I came across our boys as I staggered across the field - the Moor, Jimmy O' Reilly, Carlos and others. Some of them were dying and asked me was it really you that had led the French attack. I told them that I had seen you with my own eyes and swore I would avenge them. They asked me to do so and then I shut their eyes."**

**"But this is not the end of the story, is it, Roberto?" asked Isabel. "How is it that you had to flee from Spain?" Paddy looked surprised at her question, but nodded in agreement.**

**"Over the next several days, some of our troops were taken prisoner. When they saw us in the rear, they assumed the same thing you had - that we had led the French in exchange for our lives \- and they cursed us. The French were too clever to allow us to explain to them what had really happened and kept us separated.**

**"It was common practice, Isabel, for each side to exchange each other's prisoners from time to time," her husband explained. "The French had no more use for us and, about a year later, we were in a group that was exchanged for their own captured soldiers."**

**"Upon our return we assumed that we would rejoin the ranks and continue in the war. And so it was for a few of us. However, it came to the notice of the army command that there was some controversy regarding our actions and accusations began to be made. The colonel who summoned me to answer the charges, informally, of course, told me that a few of my comrades who had been released had already been killed by former members of our regiment. Although he listened to my story, he told me that feelings were so strong against us, that he advised me to disguise myself, change my name and serve elsewhere against the French."**

**Roberto Cárdenas sighed. "I was indignant but I took his advice. My cause was still the cause of Spain. Better to fight against Bonaparte in disguise than not at all. But it was not that easy. The stigma of the events of those days carried far and wide and wherever I went, I heard whispers about this and such a fellow who was coming to the regiment might be 'one of them.' Finally, Joachim Morales, an old comrade from the regiment, saw me and opened fire on me with his gun, shouting to some soldiers that I was a traitor. I fled to save my life and threw myself on the mercy of one Colonel Santos. He sent me into hiding after hearing my report."**

**"Now my story is almost over. I wrote to Lieutenant-General Salazar, explaining the situation, and had it delivered by a trust-worthy Spanish friend. General Salazar was known as a man of compassion and tolerance. He was a man who would tell you the truth. But one of his aides saw the letter and saw the chance to make some political fortune for himself. He sent men to capture and arrest me. I was warned of their coming and finally met up with English forces under Wellington. I told them what happened and they allowed me to join their ranks. I served with them until the war was over."**

**"What did you do after the war, Father?" asked Pedrito.**

**"I sent a secret message to my mother who was living with my first wife, María. She sent word back that María had died a few years before. She traveled to Lisbon with a boy and then she returned to Spain. I was never to see my mother again."**

**"I was the boy, wasn't I, Papa?" the child asked.**

**"Yes," smiled his father. "Yes, you were. We traveled to Jamaica on an English vessel. We got on another vessel that took us to Cuba. From there we went to the colonies in the Américas because there were many veterans of the war who went to Cuba and I wanted to get away from them. I thought that in a new land where no one knew us, we could start over again. I wanted Pedro to have a life without a history. Peru seemed as remote a place as any to start a new life, but little did we know of the turmoil we would encounter. All I wanted was peace and quiet and to forget the past. We fled war in Peru, in Venezuela and Columbia. Finally, I chose to come to California because it seemed like it was the 'ends of the Earth.'"**

**Roberto Cárdenas paused. He looked over at Paddy O' Leary. "Then I overheard Rory speaking in the store. I knew that I would have to leave again because all Rory knew was what he thought he had seen."**

**He turned to O' Leary. "I always knew you well, my brother. I knew that if other men were as intent on killing me and not knowing the facts, that you would not be far behind. I cannot say that I don't blame you, but I also know that you will give every man his due before you dispatch him. And this is all that I ask."**

**The room was silent a long time after he finished speaking. Everyone's eyes then turned to the man in the white breeches, black boots and green regimental jacket and hat who had returned his saber to the scabbard.**

**"You have no idea how much I want to believe you, Ciarán," Paddy said. "But this is a case like no other and men change. Can you give me any positive proof that what you have told me is God's truth other than your own word?"**

**The other nodded. "In the old days, a man's word was his honor, but I submit to you that, at least in your own mind, you have a right to demand more of me. Allow me, if you will, to get some documents from my bag."**

**Paddy nodded.**

**The man knelt down and opened the travel bag. He pulled out several documents and handed them to O' Leary. Then he sat back down on the box. Isabel sat next to him and put her arm around his shoulder. Together, all three of them watched the Irish colonel.**

**Paddy O' Leary read through the documents. They told him that Roberto Cárdenas served with distinction with His British Majesty's forces in Portugal against the French. He read through a diary that documented what happened from the time he was released from the French back into the custody of Spain. He saw a copy of the letter he had written to Lieutenant Salazar and he saw the stamped custom forms from England, Jamaica and Cuba. Paddy stopped reading and folded the documents, and walked over to Seamus Cianán O' Flaherty, his own half-brother. He handed him the documents. Then he spoke.**

**"The snail has come to Jerusalem, Cianán. But, how do I know these documents are not forged? And how do I know that you didn't take the name Roberto Cárdenas from some other man who did serve with distinction?"**

**"I don't know if you could ever find the answer to that, Rory. I had to change my name. But if it means anything to you at all, I do have a postscript from the war I would like to share."**

**"What is a postscript, Papa?" asked the boy.**

**"A postscript is a short story to tell after the main story has already been told. It gives you more information to think about after the long story is finished," explained his father. He turned to the colonel.**

**"Do you remember the Irish captain, Liam Maguire, of the French Army who set me and the others up? After the war was over, Captain Maguire joined the liberation struggle in Spain for a republic. He became an agent to bring news to the Américas regarding support in Spain for the independence of the colonies and the struggle to bring down the tyranny of Ferdinand."**

**"Interesting," remarked Paddy. "It would seem the logic of his republicanism would bring him to fight against monarchy in Spain, something that Spaniards would have welcomed. But how does this prove to me that these documents are really yours? How will I ever know that you did not betray the cause of Spain and the cause of republicanism? There is still reasonable doubt on my part. Tell me something more."**

**"What you don't know is that our struggle for freedom has received a set-back. Captain Maguire was captured here in Los Angeles several days ago. He did not go by his real name. His code name was Vincente. He would not talk. Capitán Monastario killed him before he had time to get word to republicans of the feeling in Spain and before El Zorro could rescue him," Roberto told him sadly. "He felt he could best serve our cause by being the messenger. We had no idea that the royalists would get him. Now we will never know if California will move with the ranks of a republican Spain and vice-versa. And you will never hear my story from his lips."**

**It was these words that drew a surprised look from Paddy O' Leary. "Christ Jesus!" he exclaimed. "With these very words you vindicate yourself!"**

**Now it was Roberto's turn to look stunned and puzzled. "How do you mean?"**

**Paddy strode over to stand before his seated brother. He had a big smile on his face. "By Christ, I believe you now, Cianán. What you don't know is that El Zorro rode to free the prisoners in the late afternoon and they escaped. Maguire was almost dead and fell off his horse while fleeing. Monastario and I found him in a ditch. Monastario called him 'Vincente' and tried one last time to get him to talk."**

**"Did he succeed?" asked Isabel anxiously.** ****

**"He did indeed, but it was not an answer Enrique was expecting. Maguire uttered a name that astonished the comandante. The name he managed to utter was 'Mina.' Enrique thought that it referred to Xavier Mina. That is all that he knows."** ****

**"What can it mean, then?" asked Roberto.**

**"Not to worry," Paddy answered him. "Before I came back to Los Angeles, Don Alejandro told me the news that he had learned in secret. Maguire _had_ made contact, only not to republicans here in Los Angeles. And the word is this: our belovéd Espoz y Mina has returned from exile to Spain! He has declared himself for a republic. He summons all of us to fight for a republican Spain and to defeat the forces of the royalists."**

**There was a joyful expression on the faces of Roberto and Isabel Cárdenas. "Then, his mission was not in vain," Roberto exclaimed, standing up before his brother.**

**"No, it was not," Paddy said with great emotion. "Cianán, I've done you a great wrong. I came to the Américas searching for a man who I thought had betrayed the cause of Spain and republicanism to self-interest. I can see now that you have never left the cause behind." With these words, both men embraced, holding each other tightly in that kind of bear grip that conveys more in its depth of feeling than in its show of strength.**

**When they finally released one another, Roberto Cárdenas, in actuality Seamus Cianán O' Flaherty, remarked. "You know, Rory, deep down I had this sneaking suspicion that you had a lot more sense than I ever gave you credit for. I wasn't sure when you drew the sword, but you always did followed the saying that 'there are two tellings to every story.' I need to give you a lot of credit for meeting my highest expectations."**

**"I don't deserve that," Paddy mused. "You see, I was really all set to do my worst to you. Then I met up with this fellow Zorro, not just once, not just twice, but three times. Did you hear me now? Three blesséd times. And what did the man have to say to me? Why, he quoted more Irish proverbs to my face than Father Murphy did in a sermon. And the sermons he gave me would do a bishop justice, not just a priest. As for running into him, you should have seen the chase he led me on, and me, no closer to catching him than you would if you tried to snatch a moonbeam. And then there was our swordfight. Did I ever tell you about the bullwhip he carries? You should have seen him knock over the soldiers at the cuartel with it, why he was knocking them over, left and right…."**

*********************************************************************

**"Uncle Paddy, why does Papa call you 'Rory' all the time? And why do you call him Cianán? I thought he said that his real first name is Seamus," Pedro Cárdenas asked the Irish colonel as all four walked out into the front of the store. Roberto and Isabel began hurriedly serving several customers who had been loitering about for some time as they waited for someone to appear.**

**"That's a very good question to ask, Pedrito," answered the man with the red hair. "In Old Irish the name Rory means a person with red hair. It's a nickname. I call your father Cianán because it's an old word that means 'dark' or 'black.' It usually refers to the hair color."**

**"Oh," replied the boy thoughtfully. "But Papa doesn't have black hair, it's brown."**

**"Now, that all depends on your point of view. You see, so many of us have blond or red hair that all the ones with darker hair are called the 'Dark Irish," but it doesn't mean they are really 'dark'."**

**Don Diego de la Vega entered the store and saw the colonel seated on a box with the boy on his knee. He was showing the boy a knife with an elaborately carved hilt.**

**"Good morning, Colonel. Looks like you've rejoined the regiment," Diego observed cheerfully.**

**"Ah, Diego," the colonel said looking up. He lifted the boy high up in the air and then put him feet first on the floor. As he rose, he observed the cheek of the other as he came forward. "I need to apologize for my behavior last night. I ask your pardon."**

**"We all have bad nights, Paddy. But like storms, they pass, and then the sun comes out again. Sometimes there is even a rainbow at the end."**

**The colonel nodded but before he could speak, Diego turned to the boy. "Hello Pedro. Tell me something. There is a large trunk outside. It has your father's name on it. Is he going anywhere? The stage coach already left."**

**Roberto Cárdenas overheard him. "Heaven help me, I forgot about the trunk." He hastened out of the store door.**

**Pedrito Cárdenas looked up at the tall ranchero. "Hello, Don Diego. No, Papa is not going anywhere now. He does not need to." He looked up at the red-haired Irishman. "Do you want to know a secret, Don Diego?"**

**Diego smiled at Paddy and knelt down beside the boy. "Yes, I would," he said. "Is it about the trunk?"**

**The boy smiled shyly in turn. "Oh, no, Don Diego." He looked up again at the red-haired man who nodded. "Nobody knew that my father and Uncle Paddy are brothers. I mean, they are half-brothers, but they are still brothers. It was a secret. It's not a secret any more."**

**"And does everyone get to live happily ever after now?" Diego asked the child. "Is it the end of a good story?"**

**Pedrito Cárdenas smiled happily but then shook his head. "Oh, no, Don Diego. It is not the end of the story. It is only the beginning. Did you know that Uncle Paddy met El Zorro and chased him on his horse? Not just one time, not just two times, but three times. And you should have seen Uncle Paddy on his new horse, Erin. Erin is almost as fast as El Zorro's horse and he almost caught El Zorro!" The boy's eyes were wide with excitement.**

**Paddy moaned and put his hand to his forehead in mock shock. "Christ Jesus, my nephew is a born Irishman. Now who would have thought that?"**

***********************************************************************

**"Do you really have to leave us so soon, Paddy?" asked Isabel Cárdenas as the red-haired Irishman slung two heavy leather bags over the saddle and climbed up on the great brown stallion. "We’ve had so little time together. When will we see you again?"**

**"Oh, I'll be back," he assured her cheerfully. "Now, I can't promise when. I've a little mission to perform of me own, but I'll send word."**

**"You'll always have a home with us, brother," Roberto Cárdenas told him. "Don't stay away too long. Remember this - May the Lord keep you in his hand and never close his fist too tight on you."** ****

**"He never has to either of us, Cianán," he responded with a smile.**

**"Good-bye, Uncle Paddy," waved Pedro. "Come back soon."**

**Diego de la Vega mounted his palomino and accompanied Paddy O' Leary to the edge of town, to the El Camino Real which led north towards Monterey and to San Francisco.**

**"How did Señorita Flores take the news of your departure? Was she quite upset?" Diego asked.**

**"Diego, my friend, Rosita Flores is a formidable little woman and an independent one. She's a lot like me. But neither of us are quite ready to settle down yet. She wants to see more of the world and on her own terms, not anyone else's. We'll meet again some day," the colonel added philosophically.**

**"And the Torres family?"**

**"We had a very long talk. Don Nacho and I had some very important words together on how to organize to fight the royalists both now and when the time comes for real action. He was greatly saddened by the death of Captain Maguire, but I told him that Liam would be happy knowing that he served the cause of republicanism here in the New World. We are part of a mighty historical struggle between the Old World and the New, Diego, and there are those of us who understand that every birth causes pain, and sometimes injustice, but that in every historical epoch change must happen. In my life I have seen the possibility for good change and I want to be on the side of a world that will be as different from this one as ours once was from the one we sprang from so long ago."**

**"If you don't mind my asking, how did Elena take the news?"**

**"She's a very brave young lady under a state of siege," Paddy responded. "I have no doubt that the strength of her foundations will enable her to weather the storm. She will have to employ many tactics, feints, and parries to outwit Enrique, but I have a great deal of confidence in her."**

**"And what about the comandante, Paddy? You probably didn't make him too happy by pulling up stakes and deciding to leave."**

**"Ah, Enrique. What can I say? If any a man ever believed that he embodied the need to preserve the world he was born into, it is Enrique. He really wants to recreate an old feudal Spain here in California. I sympathize with his hatred of the French, but not with his hatred of republicans. Had Bonaparte never attacked Spain, he probably would have been a nice fellow, happy in the knowledge that his older brother was disinherited by his father and that he, the worthy son, became the heir to their estates because he was the honorable one. But life didn't turn out like that. It's one reason why war is so bloody rotten and criminal. It can change our lives from white to black and set us on roads that we were never meant to travel."** ****

**"In our new world, Monastario, hopefully, will be an anachronism, but for now, he is a dangerous one," Diego commented thoughtfully.**

**"Like any petty tyrant, he is, Diego. But don't forget - tyrants come and they go. Remember our saying - _Is treise tuath no tighearna_ ’ – "A people is stronger than a lord."**

**"Have you reached any final decisions, Paddy, on what to do next?" Diego asked. He handed the Irishman a small leather-bound book on the history of Ireland. Paddy tucked it into his jacket.**

**"I've a small mission of me own in a quaint town called Monterey," Paddy responded with a smile. "There is a new governor, just appointed, an older gentleman. They say that he's quite a republican. He might just want to start looking into the affairs of Los Angeles - if not right away, then certainly in the time to come. If I can do anything to help the Torres family - and yours - I'll try - for 'you'll never plow a field by turning it over in your mind'."**

**They reached the edge of town and Paddy gave a sigh. "Well, here we are at last." He leaned over to the young don and stretched out his hand.**

**"I'll be sure to remember that," Diego said, taking his in a firm grasp. "Who knows, I might even have to learn to fight with a sword meself."**

**Paddy grinned. "You just remember this old Irish saying, Diego - 'A scholar's ink lasts longer than a martyr's blood.'"** ****

**He chuckled and kept on as he turned his horse away. "Now I've always believed that the longest road out is the shortest road home and it's no use boiling your cabbage twice. The older the fiddle, the sweeter the tune. By degrees, castles are built. It's difficult to choose between two blind goats. Men are like bagpipes - no sound comes from them until they're full. The one who waits for the fine day, will get the fine day. The person who brings a story to you will take away two from you. The dog that's always on the go is better than the one that's always curled up. Better own a trifle than want a great deal.Remember, even if you loose all, keep your good name for if you loose that, you are worthless. Wisdom is what makes a poor man a king, a weak person powerful, a good generation of a bad one, and a foolish man reasonable…."**

**Diego smiled to himself. "Colonel, you've kissed the blarney stone." He knew the colonel could no longer hear him.**

**In the distance, a man in a lightweight black cape suddenly stopped on the hillcrest, turned, and shouted back to Diego. "Oh, Diego, when you see El Zorro tell him that…."**

**Diego strained to hear the words, but they were whipped away by the breeze. The colonel waved and disappeared over the hill-lock.** ****

**Diego turned his horse back toward Los Angeles. He had a good idea of what the Irish colonel had intended to tell El Zorro. He knew that the colonel had learned and gained something incomparable in his interactions with the people of Los Angeles and his encounters with the Fox - his family, new friends and allies, and a sense of his own continuity in struggle - from Ireland, to Spain and at last to California. Here was another man who took his place in the struggle for a new and better world for all - the kind of world that El Zorro not only dreamed of, but fought for.**  
  
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